


The Little Peach

by dixiemame33



Category: Disney Cartoons (Classic)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-01-16 15:58:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 67,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18524821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixiemame33/pseuds/dixiemame33
Summary: Momotaro meets Inch High Samurai meets Disney!In Japan of old, a mysterious child is found by a lonely couple. When he grows up, he still hasn't "grown up" - he forever remains the size of a peach pit. Determined to change his size, and his father's opinion of him, Mickey sets out on a journey to retrieve the Lucky Hammer - a legendary weapon capable of changing anyone's height.With weird sidekicks, a beautiful princess, and the onslaught of Oni, Mickey and his father will learn that the only size that matters is the size of one's heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to my wonderful editor, Drucilla!
> 
> So two notes about this upcoming story, one good and one not so good
> 
> The good : This is a tribute to all the manga and anime that influenced me growing up, and the culture that continues to inspire me to this very day. 
> 
> The not so good : Donald's not going to be the fun, loving guy we know him to be just yet. It's a little thing called character development. If you can't wait around for that, I suggest you don't read. Plenty of other stories out there.
> 
> With that out of the way, I hope those of you who do stick around enjoy this story of family, friendship, and folktales!

Pride has many different meanings to many different people, and it has been said that it goes before a fall. Donald Duck believed that so long as you kept a fair balance between pride and humility, you couldn't go wrong. Thus he was striven to find pride, and subsequent humility, in all he did. For instance, he was very proud of the work he was doing as late night began to drift over the quaint farm land, his hands filthy with dirt and sweat dripping off his feathers. Why, look at all of the seeds he was able to plant and all of the fresh vegetables he had pulled from the earth! He'd kept count, and he was certain he'd done three times the work compared to the rest of the farmhands.

Then again, as humility told him, most of them had gone home hours ago, so it was a rather unfair comparison. The only reason he hadn't been booted home yet was because the farm belonged to his grandmother, but judging by the faint footsteps nearby, that limit was being reached too. Still, he continued to dig in the dirt, even as he felt his elder looming over him.

“Good evening, _oba-san_ ,” he said without lifting his head, hoping the more polite he was, the more patient she'd be with him. “We had a very fine crop today! Those carrots looked so good, I was tempted to take a bite the moment I pulled them out! You're going to make a fortune at market.”

“Go home, Donald.”

“And did you see the size of those leeks? You could build a house with those suckers! The gods must be answering your prayers ten times over.”

“Go _home_ , Donald.”

“Did I mention how huge your peppers have gotten? I swear, one was the size of my – WAK!” A slight jolt of pain from his rear made him stand to attention, glaring deeply at his grandmother who held one of his former tail-feathers between her fingers. “That's a fine way to treat one of the greatest samurai in the land, and your own grandson to boot!”

“Oh, don't you pull that nonsense with me, young man,” she huffed, not intimidated in the least. “You were one of the greatest...a year ago. Then you went and got yourself injured. Now you're just a shameless husband who refuses to comfort his own wife!”

Though the insult was well-deserved, it stung all the same. “You don't have to live with her,” he grumbled, removing the basket from his back and setting it down on the ground. “Look, I've been trying to help, but nothing I say gets through to her! And I hurt plenty too, you just don't see me going all to pieces about it. Just because I'm not blubbering doesn't mean I'm not grieving in my own way.”

Grandma inhaled and exhaled deeply through her nostrils, but her expression began to soften. “I am sorry, Donald,” she said, more gentle than before. “I don't mean to snap at you, honestly I don't. It's... so easy to feel helpless, when you can't do anything to help your own family. But you do need to be there for her, blubbering and all.” However, she knew from experience that guilt alone wouldn't always do the trick, so fortunately she had extra help this time. “I didn't come here just to rattle your chains... I got this in the mail today... it was meant for you, and wound up in mine by mistake. I didn't know when was the best time to tell you.” She held out a small folded letter, the small rips showing the great distance it had traveled.

Donald raised an eyebrow. “Huh? Tell me what?” He unfolded the letter and began to read quietly, his eyes widening at the news. He glanced at Grandma as if to confirm its accuracy, even though he knew she had no way of knowing, and read the letter again. “Criminy... I knew it was bad, but... When I had to leave the castle, I wasn't too upset at first, you know? Because things seemed to be going all right. The Emperor and the Oni King were settling on peaceful terms, the war was nearly over, didn't seem like they'd need my protection anymore. Now...” He sadly shook his head, folding the letter and tucking it into his robes.

“It won't be long until the entire village finds out. You just got the head-start by courtesy, I reckon. And you need to tell Daisy.”

“Fine, fine, fine.” It was clear he was only delaying the inevitable. With one last heavy sigh, he kissed his grandmother on the cheek, and bade her goodnight, promising to be at the farm bright and early the next morning. As he started the long trek home, he tried to think of a way to tell Daisy the bad news without making her panic – although given how difficult it was to get a word in edgewise nowadays, he wondered if she'd even have the strength to panic. Not that panicking would do anyone any good now.

The former Oni King had been overthrown, his entire family slaughtered, and a new man sat at the throne, one who intended to take over all of Japan. The Emperor's men had driven him and his army away, and the old war had started anew. The peaceful life the villagers had known would cease to be someday, and they would have to be on their guard from those dangerous creatures. They could grow to be twenty feet tall, with the strength of thirty normal-sized men, so even a battle against just one of them was dangerous. Every fight Donald had against them was a harrowing experience at death's door, and even now, they still knew so little about the Oni. Yet despite all this, Donald was still way more reluctant to see his wife than to encounter the Oni again.

The Emperor's family had been amazingly kind to him, paying him much more than a year's salary when he had been forced to retire. Because of this, he could afford to have a large, luxurious home by the stream, as at the time, he planned to fill it with children alongside his darling bride. He stood in front of the wooden door, and summoned his courage. Slowly, he began to slide it open.

“I'm home-”

“ _WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHIWANNABABYYYYYYIT'SNOTFAIIIIIIIIIRWAAAAAAAH-_ ”

Donald promptly slid the door shut, and rubbed his temples. Really, why should tonight have been any different? Drawing his hand down his face, he opened the door again, sliding his sandals off to the side. His wife's wailing was incredibly loud, and the size of the empty house allowed it to echo and increase in volume, so it was like living with ten screaming wives. He moved through the house to find Daisy, though he knew where she was, and where she'd been every day since the local medicine man had delivered the devastating news.

There she slumped over the table, bottles of empty sake rolling around her, as she slapped her hand to the wooden surface over and over again. “I WANNA BABY I WANNA BABY I WANNA BAAAAABYYYYY!” She wailed and wailed again, her face streaming with endless tears. Somehow despite her blurry vision she managed to see Donald, and pointed an accusing finger at him. “HOW COME YOUR SISTER GETS TO HAVE THREE AT ONCE, BUT I CAN'T EVEN HAVE OOOOOOONE?!”

“I know, I know.” He had her rants and ravings memorized by heart now. He walked up behind her and then sat down to hug her around the waist. “Come on, you're going to make yourself sick. Let's get you to bed.”

“I DON'T WANNA GO TO BED, I WANNA BABY!” She slammed her fists onto the table. “I'M ALREADY SICK! THAT AWFUL MAN SAID MY BODY CAN'T MAKE BABIES! I WANNA BE A MOMMY!” Learning that had been agonizing months ago, and it was agonizing now, and it appeared Daisy would never be over this fact. But as Donald counted the bottles on the table, he found with depressing relief that at this stage of her fits, she would eventually lose her strength and pass out.

He nuzzled his beak to her hair, tenderly grooming her as she'd failed to take care of herself for many days now. “When was the last time you ate anything? You're going to be nauseous with all that booze in your belly and not a bit of dinner in you.”

“I don't want dinner.” On cue, Daisy's screaming began to lose its power, though she hadn't stopped crying. “It's not fair...I want to dress a cute little girl in kimonos, I want a sweet little boy to help me with chores...I want to teach them the ways of the world, and hear them call me mama, and play with them, and love them! Why do I have all this love in my heart if I have no one to give it to? It's not faiiir...”

In a way, this was worse than her screams, if only because Donald understood this agony all too well. He too wanted a living piece of his and Daisy's unity, a bouncing boy on his knee, a girl to tuck into bed and wish sweet dreams. This house was so empty now, and each passing day it made the two of them feel more and more lonely. “I'm going to get you something to eat,” he said after a kiss to the cheek. “Even better, I'll get you some peaches. Your favorite food.” He wasn't sure if anyone would be open at this time of night, but he was desperate to find some ray of happiness for his wife, no matter how small.

“Okay,” her mumble was small and pathetic, a sliver of the powerful woman he'd fallen head over heels for. She made no effort to get up or clean herself, instead spelling out potential baby names in the spilled sake. Donald barely made out a “Mi” and maybe a “key”. He gave her another tender kiss before leaving her side and exiting the house. He knew that he should tell her about the contents of the letter, but he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her more than she was already suffering. A good husband was supposed to be able to keep his wife safe and happy, and it looked like he was unable to do either. What pride was to be found here?

He was ready to march into the village and knock on every door to find a fresh supply of peaches, when a familiar color caught the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw, to his great surprise, a single peach floating in the stream. He stared at it for a few seconds longer, amazed at the sheer coincidence. Was this perhaps a sign from the gods that things were not as hopeless as they seemed? Or were they throwing a starving dog a chewed up bone? Either way, he decided not to miss his chance, and quickly dashed to the stream, plucking the fruit out of the water. There appeared to be a thin line pressed to one side, and Donald dismissed it as a result of imperfect growth.

Pleased, he returned to the inside. Daisy groggily lifted her head. “I thought you were gunna get me some peaches.”

“Some soul abandoned theirs,” Donald replied, heading to the kitchen. “Stay right there, I'll cut you a nice big slice.” He picked up a kitchen knife, and held up the peach, gazing thoughtfully at it. He would have loved to teach his children how to use a sword, the way his own father taught him. Though Donald had a bad temper and could be clumsy, his parents loved him and his sister without question, and his childhood was a fond one. To think he'd never recreate such an experience... it pained him deeply, and he was so certain he had been meant to be a father. He knew that no matter kind of child he had, he would have also loved them without question, without exception, and would have done anything for their happiness.

“I wish I had a child,” he said quietly, “Even if they were no bigger than a peach pit.”

He flipped the knife in his hands – though it had been some time since he was a seasoned warrior, his skills with the blade were still unmatched. He sliced the entire peace in half with one clean strike, and admired his handiwork for a brief second. Placing the knife aside, he pulled off the top half of the peach - 

And stopped dead in his tracks.

Daisy, for her part, was growing impatient. “Donald, what's taking so long?” Frustrated, she wobbly stood up to her feet and made way to the kitchen. Donald was frozen solid, one hand in the air holding half of the peach, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. “You didn't cut yourself, did you?” It felt silly to ask, since she too knew of Donald's fantastic skills with any sharp object. Even so, he didn't answer her, nor did he appear to hear her in the first place. “Is it rotten? Is there a worm in it?” Yet Donald wasn't so squeamish as to be so deeply affected by gross aspects of nature, and Daisy finally looked at the other half of the peach in Donald's other hand.

She too stopped dead in her tracks.

A long moment of silence stretched out between them, even as they turned their heads to look at each other, quietly confirming that their partner was indeed seeing the exact same thing they were seeing. They then slowly looked back at the peach, where, lying where a pit was supposed to be, was a small baby boy, a black-furred mouse that was enjoying a good nap while sucking his thumb.

“It's a baby,” Daisy finally said, the words feeling dumb off her tongue.

“It can't be,” Donald countered, despite seeing the evidence in front of his face.

The tiny thing twitched, and then began to yawn, deciding now was a good time as any to get up. He couldn't have been more than a month old, if they had to guess. He opened his eyes, blinking back at the giant strangers, and smiled, letting out a happy giggle as his tiny hands reached out.

That giggle was all it took to sober Daisy up. “It _is_ a baby!” She squealed, and then she reached forward, gently trying to scoop him up in her fingers. “Hellooo, aren't you a delight!”

Donald dropped both sides of the peaches, letting them splatter to the floor – the baby was already in Daisy's palm and enjoying the stay. “What are you doing?!” He squawked, flailing and pointing at the thing in his wife's hand. “You – don't touch that, you don't know where it's been!”

“It's been in a peach, of course.” Daisy cradled the child in one hand, using her other to lovingly smooth down the mouse's fur, and the baby laughed from the accidental tickle. “He is a bit sticky, we should give him a bath. Don't you worry now, we're going to get you all cleaned up.”

“We?” Donald repeated, still expecting to wake up from this hallucination. “Who is this we?”

“Who else would I mean?” Daisy said with a bit of tsking. “Donald, don't you see? This is a gift from the gods, our prayers have finally been answered!”

“A gift!” Donald's infamous temper began to rise up and show its ugly head. “Oh sure, when I pray to be a millionaire, that goes unanswered, but this is what they listen to? You must more drunk than usual – that isn't a gift, it's a curse! Look at it!”

“Stop calling him it!” Daisy began to move around the table, trying to find a good place to bathe the baby in. “He's a boy, and now he's our boy. Ah, here we go!” She took a small wooden bowl from the cupboard and placed the child inside. He made no fuss about the delivery, and never stopped smiling up at Daisy. “A perfect fit. Aren't you cute? Mama will take good care of you.”

“You are not its – his – whatever's Mama!” Donald grabbed Daisy by the arm, forcing her to look at him. “Be reasonable! That thing could die just by rolling off the counter or one of us sitting on it! It can't be a real child, and we can't take care of it!”

Donald had married Daisy for many reasons, and one of those reasons was that she was as strong as he was. As such, Daisy had no issue suddenly snatching his wrist and twisting his arm back. “Donald Fauntleroy Duck, if you take this child from me, the Oni will seem like angels compared what I'll do to you.” She kept twisting and twisting until Donald was sure it'd pop out of its socket at any given second. “ _Do we have an understanding?_ ”

Donald make a pained “eee” sound while crumbling to his knees that Daisy took as an affirmative. “Good. I'm glad we had this talk.” She released his arm and then turned back to the child who blinked up at her in confusion. “Awww, it's okay! Mama was just having a tiny disagreement. But it's okay! Mama will never ever let anything happen to you.” She reached into the cup to fondly stroke the child's big black ear, and he wound up giggling again. “Mama will always take care of you.”

Donald rose back to his feet, rubbing his aching arm. He watched Daisy coo over the baby, and his anger grew even hotter. A gift? That was supposed to be the answer to their grief? A baby they couldn't hold, who'd be in danger every passing second, who could never lift even a cup or play around with other children? It was unnatural, and unfair, and his fingers rolled up into fists. For the first time, he had found something he could take no pride in.

“You may be its mother,” he growled, and began to storm off. “But that will never be my son!”

Daisy glanced at the direction Donald had marched off to, and her face began to fall. For all her fawning, she didn't want to do this alone. Why couldn't Donald be as happy as she was? The size would be a problem, yes, but what child didn't come with its own unique set of problems? That was part of living, a part of life itself. As if able to pick up on her sadness, the baby began to make a distressed noise, moving his little arms. Daisy quickly turned her attention back to him, shushing as she stroked his face. “It's okay, it's okay...he'll come around, I know he will. He's just stubborn, that's all. One day, he'll accept you...we just have to be patient, don't we?”

Yes, he would be like any child, and like any child, he needed a name. “I have been waiting for so long to give this name away... and now, I can finally call it. You will always be our darling little Mickey.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years later, the blessed baby hasn't grown a single inch. Can bravery and optimism make up for strength and height?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> Not much to say here, other than I promise there will be happy times again - including a very silly interpretation of a beloved character. But yeah, this one's gunna hurt.

Concentration would be the key to victory in this battle. Though he was but a lone soldier against a large and terrifying enemy, he kept his head held high, his trusty blade at the ready. All he needed was an opening... he took a deep, baited breath, measuring his footsteps as the opponent circled him... then... there! An opportunity!

He sprinted to his foe's side, stuck his weapon between two legs, and flipped them over onto their back. Then one good kick to send them reeling! “That'll teach you,” he said with a notch of pride in his voice. “There's no reason for our fight to go on any further... if you leave this place, you'll have an enemy of me no longer.”

His opponent didn't say anything, nor did he expect him to – after all, spiders couldn't talk. But it did seem to grumble a bit as it managed to crawl back onto its legs and scurry its way to the open window. He was pleased – he didn't want to have to kill the creature, but he didn't want to clean up the spider-webs it would have left. Not to mention it would have scared the dickens out of his mother.

“MICKEEEY! Where are you?!”

Right on cue. Mickey sighed, but it was with a smile. For goodness sake, if he wasn't constantly in her line of vision, she had a heart attack. He tucked his mother's sewing needle into his belt, careful not to rip his tailored clothes – all of his clothing was made by his mother, since the usual tailors had a difficult time trying to make them for someone his size. He didn't want to make his mother fuss anymore than usual, and she already fussed way too much.

Judging from the location of her voice, she was probably near the den. Mickey had the entire house memorized, including the insides of the walls and which rafts were easier to run along. It was slower, and more boring, to rely merely on the floor for his comings and goings. He made his way towards his mother's frantic voice, leaping from window sills and swinging by curtains until he landed on the bookcase where his mother kept various novels and favorite letters. “Up here, _oka-san_.” Due to his size, he had learned he had to make his voice very loud whenever he wasn't directly in front of someone's face.

Daisy turned on her heel, and then exhaled deeply as she saw her son. “Mickey! What are you doing up there? You had me worried sick! Come down before you hurt yourself!” She held out her open hands, and with a small laugh, Mickey jumped onto her palms. “Is that my sewing needle? Oh, Mickey, tell me you weren't using it as a sword again!”

“It's the only one that'll fit me,” Mickey countered. “I was just doin' some spring cleaning up in the attic.”

“You don't need swords,” Daisy said with a huff, removing the needle from Mickey's belt. “You could have cut yourself, or worse!”

Mickey pouted, crossing his arms. “Aw, c'mon! How am I ever going to be a great samurai like Papa if you don't let me practice? A little scratch isn't going to kill me.”

“On you, a little scratch isn't so little! I won't hear of it. Now come help me in the kitchen, it's just about dinnertime.” She raised her hand to her shoulder, and Mickey grumbled as he walked on. “Helping Mama” was never really helping her at all. She was so terrified of everything being a potential threat to Mickey that all he could do was sit and watch. He loved his mother dearly, but not being allowed to do anything was not a life for him. Changing Daisy's mind wouldn't be easy, but it was still worth the effort.

“Do you know what tomorrow is?” Mickey asked as Daisy began to cut up stalks of celery and leek. “'Cause I've been keeping track, and I think we all know what it is.”

“Of course I know.” Daisy had calmed down considerably, making sure that the portions were split three ways – two normal servings for her and her husband, and the tiniest bit for Mickey. “Tomorrow's your birthday – it's been almost eighteen years since Papa found you floating out on the stream. It was one of the happiest days of my life.” She reached over to gently pat Mickey on the head with one finger. “How could I possibly forget the day you made me so happy? Eighteen years, and it still feels like just yesterday you were saying your first words.”

“And most people would consider eighteen to be an adult,” Mickey said, sitting down on his mother's shoulder. “In fact, didn't you say Dad was even younger than that when he first took up the sword?”

His mother puffed up her cheeks, annoyed that she'd been caught in a trap of her own making. “That was a long time ago... not to mention there were very different circumstances.”

“And how much older was he than me when he first went into battle against an Oni?”

Daisy rubbed her temples. “Oh, why did I tell you those stories?” Even as she asked, she knew why. She wanted father and son to be as close as mother and son were, and it had seemed like the best way to start was to tell Mickey of all his father's grand and glorious adventures. It didn't occur to her until it was too late that Mickey wanted to become the sort of man she was describing. “Mickey, your father took up the sword to protect his family, his land, and his lord, the Emperor.”

“But I wanna protect them too!” Mickey said, jumping to his feet. “The Oni are still coming after people! They're never going to stop, so our country needs every man it can get. I bet I could take 'em on, they'd never see me coming!”

“Literally, I imagine.” Daisy shook her head. “It didn't always use to be this way, Mickey. The Oni were still dangerous back when your Papa was fighting for the Emperor... but back then, the Oni were beginning to retreat from more battles and walk away with less wounded. The original Oni King was in talks with the Emperor, and they could have made an agreement, come to peace and end it all for good.”

Slowly, Mickey began to walk and climb down his mother's arm. “But that's when the Oni King got overthrown, wasn't he?” Mickey hadn't just listened to his mother's stories, but also made valiant effort to read whatever he could get his hands on, no matter how difficult it was to turn a page or unfurl a scroll at his height. “And that jerk took over. And he wanted to take over all of Japan. And he's still trying, after all these years!”

“Sometimes determination can be a terrible thing,” Daisy admitted, allowing Mickey to hop off her wrist and land on the counter, as she began to de-bone a fish. “I don't think the Oni King will give up until he's dead and buried. But! We never have to worry about that.” She held up her kitchen knife, waving it around and ignoring the bits of fish guts she accidentally began to toss about. “Because your Papa will keep us safe, and Mama will always keep you safe! I'll never let anything happen to you!”

“You can say that again,” Mickey muttered under his breath, managing to dodge a hunk of fish belly. “You don't let me work, you don't let me play, you don't let me fight...” Mickey had only seen the outside world handfuls of times. Sometimes when his mother needed to shop or visit family, she'd allow Mickey to come along but to never leave her shoulder. By now the village was used to the odd sight, and knew better than to ask Daisy about him, lest they say the wrong thing and earn her wrath. Mickey had tried to get away when he could, in an effort to play with his vastly taller cousins or even just to try and feed some local strays, but Daisy would always snatch him away, frightened by what could come next. “I just want to help!”

“You do help!” Daisy said, slicing off the fish's head with a great big chop. “Why, just seeing your darling face gives me so much energy and happiness, I feel ten years younger! All you have to do is be there for your Mama, and all is well.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. It was the same spiel every day, and he was sick of it. Was he going to be treated this way for the next eighteen years? When he was eighty? Why was he even here if he couldn't help out the people he loved? It was a frustrating existence, and he wanted to argue about it more, but he heard the front door sliding open – in a house this big, sounds could carry a great distance. “He's home!” Cheered up, he flipped off the counter, eager to see his father.

“Ah, Mickey, careful, careful!” Daisy pleaded, hands out, trying to catch her baby boy. But he landed with ease – it always did seem very difficult for him to actually get hurt, even for all her efforts of protection. The only thing he ever seemed to suffer was the occasional headache. Still she gave chase after him, having forgotten about the kitchen knife in her hand.

As expected, Donald had arrived home, though he no longer announced himself when he did. When he officially retired from his duties under the Emperor, he had placed his samurai armor at the graves of his parents as a way of honoring them. Now when he needed it most, he couldn't bring himself to take it back, and had settled for cheap replacements by the local blacksmith that could hardly do the same job. Each piece came off with a heavy sigh, with his scabbard and sword being the last. He had always kept his family's sword, as it had been tradition to hand it down from father to son. Once a proud emblem, he now saw it as a painful reminder of what had been denied to him. He quietly slid off his sandals, rubbing his aching arm, trying to settle the painful throbs. It had been another difficult day, and he suspected tomorrow would be no different.

“ _Oto-san!_ ” Mickey skidded to a halt at the entrance of the house, eyes shining bright as he looked up at his father, hands clenched together. “Welcome home! How was your day?”

Donald spared him one glance, dark circles under his eyes and his feathers thinning. He then turned to Daisy, who begged him with her eyes to give the boy a chance. Instead, Donald asked, “Is dinner ready?”

“We just started,” Daisy replied, frowning at Donald's dismissive treatment of their son. “Mickey asked you a question.”

“What does he expect the answer to be?” Donald turned away from his family, heading to the dining room table. “It's the same as it ever was.” Ever since the original Oni King had been slain, and the new tyrant had double his efforts for takeover, Donald had been called upon to protect the village with other swordsmen – but his old injury made this difficult. He sat down on the table, rubbing his arm again.

Daisy offered Mickey an apologetic look, but Mickey didn't give up so easily. Instead, he tagged along after Donald, climbing up the table and sitting nearby his father. “How many were there today? Did they have one or two horns? I remember you said that two horns mean they're a lot stronger, one horn means weaker. I wonder why that is?”

“Who knows?” Donald replied dismissively, not even looking at Mickey, watching Daisy pour him a cup of water. He then winced, and rubbed his arm again.

Mickey scooted over, trying to see his father's arm. “Aw, gee... it's really actin' up again, isn't it?”

“It's fine,” Donald said, even though it clearly wasn't. “I'm home now, I won't use it, so there's nothing to whine about.”

“But it's been gettin' worse day after day, ain't it?” Mickey frowned, concerned. “Maybe... tomorrow you should take the day off, and just let it rest a while.”

“I _said_ it's fine,” Donald growled, swiping a cup and chugging down water. 

“Donald, the boy's only worried about you!” Daisy said, hands on her hips. “And frankly, so am I. If this keeps up, your arm won't be good for anything, much less fighting.”

“I don't have a choice!” Donald slammed the empty cup down on the table. “The Oni King doesn't care what happens to us, or even if he really can conquer these smaller villages. We're all just pawns in his game.”

Mickey blinked rapidly – this part was news to him. He had always assumed that conquering everything meant – well, conquering everything, having it just for the sake of having it. “If he doesn't care about actually owning the village, then how come he sends his men after us? I thought he wanted to take over all of Japan.”

“It's about pressuring the princess,” Donald answered, staring down at the empty cup in his good hand. “If the Emperor was still alive, maybe we'd be all right... but he and his wife died in that brutal attack on the capital years ago. Now it's just their daughter, the princess, all alone in the castle. She's supposed to rule over all of Japan, take care of the people... and keep a guard over the Lucky Hammer.”

Mickey cocked his head. The term was familiar, but only in passing, and only in a few of his mother's stories. “The Lucky Hammer... isn't that the super special magical tool that only the royal family is supposed to know about?”

“And the people who work for the royal family,” Daisy added, coming up behind Donald to rub his shoulders. “But he told me on our first date to impress me.”

Donald's cheeks flushed a scarlet hue. “Third date,” he grumbled. “And you weren't supposed to tell him! It's a secret for a reason!” Never mind that he just spoke of it himself. Ever since Mickey had entered his life, Donald had found it more and more difficult to take responsibility over his faults. In fact, Donald had become a much more irritable person altogether. “If everyone knew what it was, everyone would try to take it for themselves! It's bad enough the Oni King knows, and that's why he's putting the pressure on her in the first place... If she won't give him the Lucky Hammer, he'll continue hurting us.”

“What's the big deal about one hammer?” Mickey asked the inevitable. Although Donald was clearly in a bad mood, Mickey was desperate to keep the conversation going if it meant Donald was acknowledging him in any way. He'd long since given up on being called Donald's son, but still held out hope that eventually Donald would at least enjoy his presence.

“Ah, big deal, that's the right word!” Daisy lightly slapped Donald's shoulder. “It's not a weapon in the traditional sense, Mickey. Legend says that anyone who wields the Lucky Hammer can grow and shrink to any size!”

Mickey's eyes widened. “Any size?”

“Any size means any size,” Donald answered. “Imagine trying to take on a single soldier the size of a mountain! A man like that could take over the entire world. So the country's strongest samurai are at the castle to protect it, which leaves the rest of us easy targets... and all we can do is wait until all the Oni die out.” Judging by the sound of Donald's tone, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. It was a cycle of despair and pain, with no clear end in sight.

“Maybe the Oni King will get overthrown himself. It would serve him right.” Daisy kissed the top of Donald's head, hoping to plan some seed of reassurance. “Things can't stay the same forever. They never do. One day, there will be peace again.”

“Mama's right.” Mickey said with a cheerful smile, having inherited her positive spirit. “With soldiers as great as you protecting us, I bet they'll give up real soon! Things always change, so you have to look forward to that!”

Donald slowly looked at Mickey, his expression darkening. “You, of all people, shouldn't say 'things always change.'” While Mickey had “grown” from a baby into a young man, he hadn't changed from the size of a peach pit.

Mickey's smile weakened, though it didn't really go away. He chuckled nervously. “Well, I, uh... I guess I'm the exception to the rule.” He hastily tried to change the subject. “But one thing about me is going to change tomorrow! It'll be my birthday. Why, I'll be a real adult by then. Isn't that great?”

Donald didn't answer that, instead closing his eyes and crossing his arms. “Are you ever going to make dinner?”

“Dinner is for people who acknowledge birthdays.” Daisy flicked Donald on the back of his head, making him wince. “I'm making a meal for myself and our son. If you want any, you better have a very good birthday present for him!” The underlying threat was clear – if Donald didn't at least make an effort tomorrow, she was going to make him pay. She then smiled sweetly at Mickey, always able to turn her emotions on a dime. “And Mama's got such a wonderful present for you, Mickey! Oh, I almost wish I could give it to you now! But no more silly 'man' talk, you'll always be my precious baby.” She leaned down to poke his cheek, and after a bit more cooing, she frolicked back to the kitchen.

Mickey watched his mother go, wondering what she really expected. Donald had never given Mickey any birthday presents before, why start now? Mickey didn't blame him, he was rather impossible to shop for. Instead, he rolled his shoulders and faced his father again. “I don't need anything,” he said. “As long as you always come home safe and found, gosh, that's the best present ever.”

Donald didn't look at him, and seemed to be making every active effort not to. What did the boy have to be so cheery about? It only served to irritate Donald more and more. If Donald was in Mickey's position, he'd have every right to be constantly miserable – which, nowadays, wasn't too different from how Donald's life was already. So where did all of Mickey's mirth come from? 

Mickey planned on continuing the conversation further, perhaps asking how Donald's own eighteenth birthday had gone, when he picked up a noise from outside – despite his small size, his big ears had an amazing habit of listening to what others couldn't hear. “Is someone coming?” It was a late hour to have visitors. Donald raised an eyebrow, and got to his feet, continuously rubbing his arm as if it was bad omen of things to come.

The front door was slammed open, and one of their neighbors spilled themselves onto the floor, hastily picking themselves up after. “S-Sir Donald!” He gasped for breath, clutching his chest. “The Oni... they've regrouped!”

“What?!” Donald scrambled to the entrance, and Daisy, overhearing the yell, poked her head out of the kitchen, and Mickey had jumped down from the table, running over to see the commotion. “Already?! It's only been a few hours!”

“They were given a command...” The neighbor looked back outside, eyes wide with fear. “Either they take over the village, or die by the Oni King's hand! They're not going to retreat this time! They're laying siege to your grandmother's farm! It's as if hell has opened up!”

Donald swore under his breath, and made a hasty effort to grab bits and pieces of his armor – from the sound of things, he had no time to don the entire outfit. “Get everyone there as soon as possible! I'll be there-” But when he made to pull out his sword, his entire arm objected, and he grunted hard in pain, staggering to one knee.

“Donald!” Daisy sprinted to her husband's side, with Mickey watching on in horror. “You can't possibly go out there now! Your arm needs to rest!”

Donald shoved her off as gently as he could. “I have to go,” he said between harsh breaths, the pain so great he could feel it throb throughout his entire body. “I don't have a choice! I will not let my home fall!” Daisy objected again and again, but Donald was already out the door, the neighbor leading him away to the forefront of the battle.

Mickey stared at the open doorway, his mind and heart racing. His father had said these battles would continue until the Oni died... or maybe until the people died. No matter how great a warrior his father was, he was only human, and he needed help. What kind of man was Mickey if he couldn't be there for his family? “I'm going too!” Without waiting or thinking for another second, he dashed out into the fading night, leaving the safety of his home behind.

“Mickey!” His mother cried out for him, and reached down to try and grab him, but the boy was much too fast when he wanted to be. When she came outside, the world had grown too dark for her to see where he'd gone, and she wildly searched the ground for any sign of her son. She called out his name, over and over again, to the point of screaming it in utmost terror.

~*~

The tales of Oni had been so widespread across Japan that eventually they became wild and distorted. Their appearances and abilities varied in stories from region to region, and this was the same for Mickey. For all his mother's stories, he thought the Oni would be hideous savages that caused nightmares on sight alone. He was afraid of meeting them, but his noble heart was far stronger. He followed his father all the way to the farm, dodging the footsteps of panicked people who were running away in the opposite direction. One of them, a fisherman, had dropped his pole and Mickey stopped when he saw an opportunity.

Thinking quickly, he ripped off the circular hook from the string – it would be an unusual sword, but he was very unusual himself. Gripping it in both hands, he resumed the chase after his father, who appeared not to have noticed the extra addition.

The growing garden of the farm had been set on fire, and the handfuls of soldiers couldn't afford to save both the plants and themselves. Grandma Duck had to be “rescued” away kicking and screaming, wanting to fight the Oni herself with a garden hoe. By the time Donald arrived, several soldiers already laid in the tilled dirt, wounded and groaning. There were only five Oni in this battle, but they were more than enough to take on the entire village's worth of men.

They were also much more human than Mickey ever thought they could be. Yes, they had small, stubby horns sticking out of their skulls – four of them had one horn, the fifth had two and appeared to be the leader – and they all wore pelts made out of the deadly tiger, but aside from that they could have been mistaken from any casual commoner walking along the marketplace. There were no grotesque faces or lumbering muscles – they were men, same as him, same as his father. How odd, Mickey thought, and now he wondered what other real differences there were between them.

But this was not the time for philosophical debates – Donald whipped out his sword, though his body trembled as he held the blade in both hands. “Leave this place at once!” He roared, eyes hot with anger. “Or I'll use your ashes for my grandmother's fertilizer!”

Mickey had also thought the voice of the Oni would be low and gravely, the sort of sound bones make when clattering together in a ghost story. But again, what came out didn't sound any different than what he heard on the daily. “Stand down, samurai. This village is as good as ours! Accept your rule under the great and powerful Oni King!”

“Never! We will only ever be ruled by Princess Minerva! Long may she reign!” He then charged into battle, letting out a warrior's cry – the nearest Oni lifted his own weapon, a spiked club, same as his brethren, and they clashed together, metal against metal, soldier against soldier. For a moment, Mickey could only watch in awe – Donald had sent the club flying, and dealt a bloody slash across the Oni's chest, sending them stumbling backwards. Two more Oni came at him, and he fought them at the same time, his speed swift, his strength immeasurable, his sword a glistening ray of hope among the blaze. It was truly like seeing Daisy's stories come to life.

But the stories never had Donald shouldering a serious former injury, and just as Donald raised his blade to unleash another devastating blow, his arm betrayed him, sending a terrible spike of sheer agony up his body. He faltered, dropping his sword, gasping for air – allowing the leader of the Oni to strike his back down hard with his club. Donald fell to the ground, groaning.

“Papa!” At once Mickey snapped back into reality, and he rushed in, running around the burning leeks and vegetables. He would not let his father die here! “For the honor of the Duck clan!” His declaration of family honor went unheard, as he was very small and the roaring blaze drowned him out. He tried to envision himself living out one of his mother's stories, the brave samurai slicing down all his enemies with a single swing of his blade. He was the son of Donald Duck, and would carry on the proud family tradition of noble warriors!

Except story and reality weren't the same at all, and while his intentions were indeed noble, his options were severely limited. He made it all the way to the head Oni's foot, and attempted to make a swift slash, same as his father had done mere moments before. While the hook was sharp and blood was drawn, it didn't send the Oni down in pain.

“Ow!” The Oni flinched, and he nudged his foot in the dirt. “I must have tripped on the man's sword... ah well. Find the leader of the village, and have him swear loyalty to us. That should be good enough for our King, and maybe he'll leave us alone, to – OW!” He hadn't moved that time, so how could he have tripped. He looked down, and blinked rapidly at the sight of a very small boy trying to cut up his foot with a fish hook. “Who let this child here?”

“I am not a child!” Mickey retorted, holding up his “sword” as high as he could. “Leave my village, or else face the wrath of the almighty Duck clan!”

Donald's eyes snapped open. “Mickey?!”

The Oni furrowed his brows, and then reached down to pick up Mickey by the scruff of his clothes. Mickey yelped, and swung the fish hook all over, trying and failing to be released. The Oni inspected him carefully, as if trying to search for something but unable to find it. One of the weaker Oni lightly prodded his master along. “Come on, we don't have time for this. Forget the child, we have to worry about our own skin.”

“I am not a child!” Mickey said again, angrier than before. “I won't allow you to take over my homeland! Take this, and that, and some of these!” He swung and swung and swung and only sliced air. 

The head Oni agreed with his minion, and released Mickey, letting him drop to the ground. Donald quickly held out his hands to catch him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I'm here to help!” Mickey answered, still having full faith in his plan despite every single clear obstacle shown before him. “We can't let the Oni take over the village! I'll show 'em what for!” He hopped out of his father's palm, just as the Oni were beginning to walk on towards their next destination. “Your wicked ways end here!” With a burst of speed and energy, he dashed forward and jabbed the fish hook into one of the larger Oni's heel – and got it stuck.

The Oni howled in pain and irritation, turned around. “Why you little...! I don't care if you are a child, I've had enough of this!” He raised his foot, intending to smash Mickey to bits.

“No!” Donald quickly crawled towards his son, snatching him up in his hands, and using his body as a shield to cover him.

The Oni was still angry, and settled for kicking Donald over and over, hitting his sides and his badly hurting arm. “If you all just surrendered, we wouldn't have to do this! Rotten mortals! Stupid mortals! Each and every last one of you is a weakling, and weaklings should just obey the strong!”

Mickey squirmed in his father's tight grasp, trying to break free, but couldn't. Even worse, he could see all the pain the Oni was causing him – Donald's body shook with great tremors, and shameful tears flooded his eyes. It was taking all of Donald's strength now just to protect Mickey, and when the Oni finally stopped kicking, Donald collapsed onto the dirt, his breath slow and weak.

The elder head Oni pulled his younger companion along, quietly rebuking him for such a shameful act, though the other refused to apologize for his actions as he limped along, yanking the hook out of his heel. They walked away, heading on for their next target. The smoke from the burning farmland reached up into the sky, creating a dark cloud of misery over the entire village. Within the hour, the village leader would reluctantly cede control and promise loyalty to the Oni King and all his rule.

Within the present, Mickey watched despairingly as his father struggled just to get on his knees again, after what felt like an eternity had passed. Donald only let Mickey go when he could no longer hear the footsteps of the Oni, and he was fully certain Mickey wouldn't be in any danger. His hands parted slowly, and he settled Mickey onto the ground. Sweat rolled down his feathers, but he still had enough strength to be angry. “What were you thinking!” He hissed, picking up his sword and placing it back in its scabbard. “You could have gotten killed!”

“I...” Micky fought for words, the full weight of his actions making him feel as heavy as the ocean. He was drowning in the smoke around them, in the consequences of his eagerness, and he knew nothing he could say would save either of them. He hands fell pathetically at his side, and he wanted to look away, his father's burning glare making him feel even smaller. “I just... I just wanted to help...”

“Help? How can _you_ possibly help anyone?” Donald pointed an accusatory finger at Mickey, as if his height wasn't obvious enough. “You can't do anything! All you did was cause more trouble for me! You'll never be any taller, you'll never be anything more than you are! As long as you're small, you'll never be able to help anyone!” He began to walk away, his body taking on a limp as a response to the endless pain in every nerve.

Mickey took three steps forward, his tiny hand outstretched. “ _Oto-san_ , I just... I wanted...”

That only made things worse, as Donald whipped his head around, almost spitting with his snarl. “Don't you dare! You're not a member of the Duck Clan, you're not a part of this village, and you are _not my son!_ ” His arm seized up, and he hissed in pain, clutching it. He forced himself to walk again, and for a brief moment, he wondered if his pain was in response to what he knew was a terrible thing to say, as if he was being punished for his words. Yet he couldn't bring himself to take them back.

Maybe if Mickey actually listened for once, he'd never put himself in danger again.

Mickey stood there, watching his father walk away, his hand still out yet not truly making an effort to reach him anymore. The fire raged on, and the village was lost, and while neither of these things were Mickey's fault, they plunged deep into his heart further than any sword could. For the first time in his life, Mickey wished he was smaller, smaller still, so small that he could vanish completely and never bother anyone ever again.

Like all the other wishes Mickey had since birth, this one also did not come true.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his home lost to the enemy, Mickey sets out on a journey to change his destiny. Elsewhere, the ruler of Japan issues her own challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> NGL, the onslaught of Ducktales has been very distracting. But I promise I'll see this Mickey story to the end! Also, this is only the beginning of so, so many anime/manga cliches. I mean them with love, I truly do.

It was not accurate to say Mickey woke up still exhausted, as that would imply he slept at all that first night. When he and Donald returned home, Daisy had been so grateful they returned that she never noticed that what little emotional bond the men had was severed harshly. Mickey went to his room – the top shelf of Daisy's drawers – but did not sleep, could not sleep. While he had known for some time that Donald had felt that way toward him, actually hearing it made it more painful. There was nothing that could fix it – he never would be Donald's son. Donald would never see him as anything more than a burden, and wasn't he? All he'd done that night was get Donald injured.

Come the morning, Daisy opened the drawer to offer Mickey his birthday breakfast, but he declined. She assumed he was upset over the village now being owned by the Oni, and could hardly blame him. She decided that, perhaps, it would be best to hold off any celebrations until they felt a sense of hope again. Neither man had told her what actually happened that night, out of shame – and an accurate fear that Daisy would tear Donald to pieces. She allowed Mickey to wallow in solitude, and Mickey intended on wallowing for a very long time. But life was moving on without his say-so, and there were more important things to think about than self-pity.

Over the course of the day, Donald's injuries meant he could barely get out of bed, so Daisy went out to help clean up Grandma's farm. The fire had destroyed most of it, but the old woman was determined to restore it, and everyone in the village joined hands to help. Daisy didn't return home until night, and when she did, she opened the drawer to Mickey and cheerfully told him everything was fine, don't you worry, Mama would never let anything happen to you. She gave him his dinner and closed the drawer, in order to relay her real fears to Donald.

“How bad is it?” Donald asked, sitting on the bed, his arm in a clumsily-made sling. Occasionally he glanced at the drawer, and during the day had made efforts to go near it, but each and every time he gave up, though Mickey was oblivious to this.

“It's not as awful as we thought it would be,” Daisy attempted something like bravado, but Donald knew his wife well enough to see the strain in her eyes. Mickey could hear it too – he'd let his parents believe that the drawers blocked out all sound, when in reality he could hear every word. It was a mischievous lie as a child that grew into a necessary lie as an adult, as sometimes Mickey felt the only way he'd hear any truth was if they thought he'd never hear. “We can still come and go as we please...we aren't being captured and sold off like horses.”

“But.” Donald raised an eyebrow, knowing full well there was a “but” coming.

“But...” Daisy sighed, hanging her head. “They're demanding money and food from us daily. With each passing day that the princess doesn't hand over the Lucky Hammer to the Oni King, we're expected to give away more and more. At that rate, we'll all wind up starving in a month or two.”

“The princess won't surrender,” Donald cut in, but not out of malice or anger. This was a tone of deep respect, though she'd been born after he'd left the Emperor's side, so he'd never even seen her face. “The royal family must stay strong, if we're to defeat the Oni. The Emperor would never have a child that would back down!”

“That's all well and good for her, but what about us?” Daisy sat on the bed next to Donald, looking him over – she didn't expect his arm to get any better overnight, but it was still a depressing sight. “You said it yourself, they're torturing us in order to put pressure on her. If something isn't done, we might have to leave our village, our home! What will we do?”

Donald didn't answer, and Mickey didn't blame him. This was as hopeless a situation as one could get. Honor was a great and powerful thing, and no one wanted the princess to hand over the Lucky Hammer, and essentially all of Japan, over to the evil Oni King. But honor wasn't going to save anyone, and their village was down one powerful samurai. They needed all the help they could get, and Mickey was upset that he couldn't provide this. He wanted to keep his parents safe, and held no hate for the man he thought of as a father. Donald had only said the truth. If only there was a way he could, at least, provide Donald with some kind of pride and happiness. Maybe then Donald could think of a way they could save the day.

Mickey sat on his own bed – a sock with ripped fabric for sheets – and held his head in his hands. Was his father right, and that things couldn't change?

“Maybe the princess could use the Lucky Hammer to turn into a giant and squish them all,” Daisy said in an attempt at humor, resting her head on Donald's shoulder. “I've heard that she's very beautiful but also very small. They'd never see it coming.”

Donald chuckled weakly, his good arm around Daisy's shoulder. “Wouldn't that be nice...but a weapon that dangerous can't be used so easily. There were so many rules and restrictions about it... why, I never even saw it for myself. Maybe that's a good thing. I would've been tempted to add a few inches.”

Mickey quickly lifted his head.

“Hush, you're the right size, you always have been.” Daisy kissed Donald's cheek. “If you were too tall, you couldn't have carried me over the river when I lost my sandal.”

“I did fall in the river first,” he reminded her. “But I would have carried you all across the ocean if you only asked.”

While his parents fell into sickeningly sweet mushy memories of their courtship, Mickey's mind was elsewhere. The Lucky Hammer – why didn't he realize it sooner? If he had that, why, he could be as tall as any normal man his age! That would surely bring his father happiness and pride – and maybe he could teach Mickey proper swordsmanship, so they could fend off the Oni together! The idea excited him so much that he jumped out of bed – and hit his head. “Ow!”

Daisy turned her head, surprised. “Oh, dear. I've told him to be careful in there... I do want to celebrate his birthday soon. He's eighteen now, but it feels like just yesterday he came to us. You never did tell me what you got him as a present.”

Donald didn't reply, detaching himself from Daisy and crawling into bed. Daisy's voice went from sweet to sour within seconds. “You _did_ get him a birthday present this year, didn't you?”

“He wouldn't want one from me – WAK!” That answer got him shoved out of bed, and he fell onto the floor with a thud.

“You don't get to share our bed unless you get our baby a present!” Daisy snapped, and then tucked herself into bed, throwing Donald a pillow – Mickey couldn't be sure if she threw it _at_ him – before huffing. “Goodnight.”

“Good-ow-night.”

Mickey shook his head, trying to get rid of the pain as soon as possible. It wasn't too bad – his usual three-pronged headaches were much worse – but he wanted to get ready for what he was planning. In order to get the Lucky Hammer, he'd have to get to the princess, who lived in the palace, which was miles and miles and miles and _miles_ away from the village, a place he'd never left. It'd take a long time for an ordinary person to get there, perhaps made shorter by horse or carriage, but Mickey had neither, and was as non-ordinary as you could get. Daisy would never allow it, so he'd have to leave in secret.

It would be a journey fraught with perilous dangers, ranging from deadly Oni to a person accidentally stepping on him. He had only the faintest idea of where to even start, and given his size, he couldn't pack much of anything. Every mile of this idea was threatening – and Mickey couldn't be delighted. A real hero's journey! The makings of a rogue samurai warrior! He'd have his own legend, just like his father! He'd bring his family honor!

He waited until he heard Donald snoring, and climbed out the back of the dresser. He could only afford to carry a few things, so he made quick choices – his mother's sewing needle for a blade, and the “bedsheets” would carry what food he could bring – cuttings of bread and cheese from the kitchen. With that tied around his neck and hanging off his back, he returned to the bedroom to make his goodbyes. He climbed into his mother's bed, and gently kissed her cheek, apologizing for the worry he'd no doubt give her.

He then turned toward his father, who snoozed away on the floor, and bowed deeply to him.

“This I vow,” he said quietly, “I will not return until I am a man you would call your son.” No matter how long it took, no matter the danger – once a samurai gave their word, it could only be broken by death.

With a deep breath, Mickey left the bedroom, made it to the first window he saw, and climbed down into the grass that was taller than he was. The night was full of brightly shining stars, and for now they would have to be his guide. He took his first step, hesitated, looked back at his house, and then walked forward again. All right, so he was a little nervous. Perhaps a little scared. But in order not to be little anything anymore, he would have to push on and let nothing stop him.

There was of course one more matter to consider – convincing the princess to let him use it. Yet Mickey didn't see this as any great obstacle. After all, he was in a very unique position! He'd never heard of anyone small as he was, and it wasn't as if he was asking to be made as tall as a mountain. He only needed to borrow it for a moment, and then he'd return it, and all would be well. Surely the Princess would understand – why, once she saw him, she'd know what he'd want immediately!

He'd never heard much about her, even in his mother's tales – supposedly the young woman was around his age, never left the palace due to the Oni King's attacks, and she was pretty. That was about all he knew, and he figured it was enough. Her father, the Emperor, had been a wise, vitreous, and noble man, one Donald had been honored to serve. Donald even got along with his fellow samurai, and they were all one big, happy family. Certainly his daughter would be the same way, as Mickey wanted to be the same way as his father.

And so Mickey set off on his journey, head held high, dreaming of the day when he would be Donald's real son, and a real man on his own. The princess would help him out – a wise and powerful woman like that, who held rule over all of Japan, surely could be compassionate and logical as well. How could she not be?

~*~

At that same time, there was another young man who was thinking the same as Mickey – that the young woman before him would be wise, worldly, and able to help all. Their meeting was almost over, as the hour ran late. Yet there was one subject on which she would not budge, no matter how high the moon was in the sky.

“I will send provisions to the north, but they must take the mountain path,” the princess answered, sitting on her throne, her gorgeous kimono covering her feet and floor like and endless ocean of blues and grays. Though she was using a wooden fan to cover her mouth, her demure voice came through clearly, without hesitation or pause. Her thick white make-up allowed her sapphire eyes to shine even brighter, cutting through air like the sharpest blade. “It will be difficult for the Oni to ambush them this way. Even so, prepare them with archers – we mustn't let a single grain of rice be taken. Once it has been delivered, I want a full report on the south.”

“Yes, my lady,” the man replied, trying to keep his head respectfully bowed and low. Yet for the next question, he couldn't help but glance at her. “But... ah... I don't supposed... you've considered my proposal...?”

Snap. The fan was shut instantly with a harsh noise, and her lady-in-waiting at her side visibly winced. “My people continue to suffer under the wrath of the treacherous Oni King. Their fields burn, their livelihood stolen, and with each passing day, my father's legacy is either tainted or forgotten. And you think I have the time to consider something like _marriage_?”

The man yelped, and tried to get to his feet, stumbling. “I-I meant no disrespect, my lady! I just – I thought – your father said - ”

“I am fully aware of what my father said. I was at his bedside when he passed.” Her cobalt glare now made the calm sea of her dress turn into a raging storm that would drown anyone who came nearby. “Do you think you know my father's wishes, more than his own daughter would? Do you think so little of us both? We, who are Japan's very soul? Do you have no love for your own land?”

Had the young man not been so afraid of upsetting the princess any further, he might have noticed the lady-in-waiting rolling her eyes. “No, no! I do! I – that was – I'll see myself out!” He scrambled to get to the doorway, nearly knocking over her second most trusted guard on the way out.

The guard whistled, impressed by the man's speed. “Gwarsh... everyone's in a real hurry these days! Why do you think that is?” he asked the man with him, the princess' third most trusted guard.

“You know what they say, goof. Get busy livin', or get busy dyin'!”

The lady-in-waiting waiting grumbled, helping the princess off her throne – it was tall, and she was small, so it was always a process. “That was the fifth suitor this month you've chased off! You can't keep this up forever!”

The princess calmly walked forward once she was on solid ground. “I've made my demands clear, Clarabelle. Besides, didn't you hear a single word I said to him? All of it was true.”

“Sure, it was true,” Clarabelle crossed her arms, “But they ain't the real reason you don't wanna get hitched, and we all know it. A husband would help you through these tough times! You can't do this all on your own, things are getting worse by the day! It's too much of a burden!” She followed along, and both guards bowed deeply as the Princess passed. “I worry for you, my lady! I truly do!”

The number one most trusted guard was waiting for at the end of the hallway, and he smiled pleasantly as she approached, gesturing to the door beside him as he bowed. “The delivery has arrived, princess. As always, I made sure it went right to your room.” When he straightened up, he gave a little wink to Clarabelle, always flirtatious even when the situation was beyond appropriate. “Why must you worry so, Lady Clarabelle? It's a sin to the world to see such a lovely face frown.”

“I got plenty to frown about, and you're not helping.” Clarabelle huffed, sticking her finger right on the guard's small beak, pushing him back slightly. “She just had a delivery a week ago! You're encouraging a bad habit!”

The guard merely blinked at her, not intimidated. “She is the princess! We have sworn to obey her every order. Goofy, Pete, you agree, yes?”

“Every single order!” said Goofy with a salute, though he did it so hard he hit his head with his hand, and he wobbled backwards dizzily.

“No matter how crazy it is,” Pete added, side-stepping away from Goofy's problem.

The princess ignored all the rabble, sliding her door open, and snapping her fan shut. “I'd like not to be disturbed for an hour. Have the next delegate for the countryside ready for me.”

“Oh, no you don't!” Clarabelle made a grab for the princess' shoulder, but she was too slow. “My lady, don't make me beg! You need a husband, and you need one pronto!”

“And I've told you time and time again...” The princess walked right up to the delivery – which was a mountain of books, three times bigger than she was. She whipped out the closest one, and stabbed the cover with her finger repeatedly – within her room and with those she trusted, she allowed her real personality to flourish.

“I'm not going to marry anyone who isn't _exactly_ like Sir Sakura from _Doki Doki Melody Springtime: Love's Sweetest Singing Song_!”

With that, she sat on the floor, giggling wildly as she flipped through the book, squealing at the illustrations and holding them up to the sky. “Finally, volumes sixteen through thirty-four! I can't wait to catch up!” This was an opulent room, full of treasure, silks and other beauties – although it was difficult to know this, given how most of the room was now covered in similarly illustrated books, including her bed, and fit to burst from her closet. One good gust of wind would probably send those stacks of books falling and crushing anyone beneath it.

“Last I checked, buying the first one was your idea, Lady Clarabelle,” the most trusted guard reminded her with an amused smirk, leaning on the doorway.

“I thought it would cheer her up after her father died!” Clarabelle protested with clenched fists at her side. “How was I supposed to know she'd get so darn obsessed with it? Who would spend all their time and energy devoting themselves to stories about girls with giant sparkly eyes and fights that last three hundred pages without doing a thing?” She was tempted to go inside to try and wrestle the princess back out, but she feared doing so would start a chain reaction that would send all the books collapsing. “My lady, Sir Sakura isn't real!”

“He's real to me!” The princess whined, holding the book tenderly to her chest. “He's kind, and thoughtful, and brave, and clever, and I will not settle for any man who isn't exactly like him, down to the last detail!”

“Guess that means he better only be a couple of inches tall, too,” Pete snickered, jabbing Goofy with his elbow, only to grow frustrated when Goofy didn't get the joke. “Cause he's on paper, you dope!”

“You need to pick a real flesh and blood husband!” Clarabelle yelled, even while knowing she was being ignored in favor of fictional exploits. “I don't care who it is anymore, even a commoner will do! I'd be okay with you marrying the first man who walks into the door! Here, marry Pete!” She yanked Pete over by the arm and tried to get him into the room. “Just marry somebody!”

Pete grabbed the doorway with his hands so he wouldn't be pushed in any further. “I'm not going in there, those books will bury me alive!” He then put a hand to the side of his mouth, trying and failing to keep a whisper private. “Not that I'd be opposed to bein' your husband, princess, if you wanna think about it.”

But she wasn't thinking about it, or about anyone else anymore. No, the princess was in another world now, where a handsome wandering soldier was pledging his loyalty to his fair beloved, vowing to be by her side no matter what troubles came their way. The hero of these novels always did right, always saved the day, and always cured his lady of any heartache. How could anyone settle for less than that? He was flawless, utterly flawless! How was the princess supposed to be content in a marriage if they couldn't be half the man Sir Sakura was?

If she married someone inferior, she'd be miserable, and a miserable ruler would make for a miserable land. Japan was great and vast, so was it really so impossible to think there wasn't a single, solitary man that was exactly like her fictional favorite? There must be! And she'd wait until the end of time to be with him. Then she'd feel like the characters did in the book – her heart racing, her face warm, her body aching in a good way! That last part always confused her, though. Aches were painful, and she had enough stubs to her toe to know that for sure. So how could an ache be a good thing?

Well, no matter – once she fell in love, she'd understand it all at once. If anything, these books were practice for the real thing. Once she met her real-world Sir Sakura, she had several ideas on how to ensure a proper relationship – like bumping into him around a corner with bread in her mouth, or falling down in just the right way so that when he fell on top of her their lips would meet without their noses bonking somehow. Then she'd have that wonderful, glittery, sparkling feeling, and she'd never be sad again.

“Oh, just let her enjoy herself.” The trusted guard gently began to lead the others away from the door, sliding it shut quietly with one hand. “She's still young, and a young lady in love is a precious flower that must be handled delicately.”

“What do you know about love?” Clarabelle slammed a hand on his helmet, forcing it down so hard that one of his feathers was roughly scraped off. “You go out with a new girl every day! If the princess becomes anything like you, I swear I'll burn all those books and have a great big bonfire for all of Japan!”

Goofy lifted his head. “Oh, can I bring potatoes? I love roasted potatoes.” His helmet was slammed next, and his long ears got stuck inside it.

Pete swiftly decided to excuse himself before he became victim number three. “Maybe we should go back on guard duty. Never know when those smart Oni might come back to cause us some trouble. And remember, you two!” He lowered his voice, eyes dark. “No one must know that the Oni King is in hiding.”

“Secret's safe with me, Pete,” Goofy said, still trying to free himself from his helmet. “Don't think anyone outside of the castle knows that anyhow.”

“It'd scare our people down to the core,” said the bird, readjusting his helmet so he wouldn't lose anymore feathers. “Knowing that the Oni King can still somehow order his people around without being seen. Whatever he's doing, whatever he's plotting, we have to be ready for it. The princess and the Lucky Hammer must never get into his hands!”

Clarabelle glanced back at the room, sighing but not saying another word as the guards left with new resolve. Perhaps the princess spent so much time in the fantasy world because the real one was so much trouble. Even she, the lady-in-waiting and one of the princess' most devoted allies, had no idea where the Lucky Hammer was hidden. Not for lack of trying – why, it was a mere matter of curiosity, and no one could be blamed for trying to find it when they first started working in the castle. She remembered Pete spent three times as long as most newcomers trying to find any clues when he first joined a year ago, and he was incredibly sour when he had to give up, since it was cutting into his actual duties.

Very, very slowly, as though not to be heard, she slid the door open a crack to peek inside. The princess was still reading, sighing dreamily as she turned the page to the next development. One day that girl would find out love wasn't so black and white – literally – but it wasn't going to be today. The princess wasn't a bad person, but she certainly could use some guidance. Deep down, there was wisdom in her, the same wisdom that her father used to rule over the land. It just needed to be brought out.

The princess finished the volume, and proceeded to pull out the next book from the pile – which resulted in it falling on top of her, covering her in paper. She let out an “Eek!” and wiggled under the remains, reminding Clarabelle of a turtle on its back that couldn't get up. “Nooo! The spines are going to be bent! Help! Helllp!”

Clarabelle rubbed her temples. “Maybe I _would_ let her marry someone a few inches tall.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mickey begins his journey, he discovers that sometimes compassion can get him farther than the blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to my editor, Drucilla!
> 
> This chapter is shorter than usual, but I think given the plot points ahead, it's something we'll both have to live with. Sometimes I'm just too hard on myself.
> 
> As for Percuvio and Hutch, they're just random mooks I yanked out of INDUCKS.

Mickey had walked throughout the night, never looking back and keeping his eyes forward. He went to the very edge of the village, into the grassy plains, and continued to move as the sun began to rise. He couldn't afford to stop and sleep, since he needed to cover more ground than the average person. Every step counted and he had to make the most of it.

But as his feet began to ache alongside his stomach, a new problem reared its ugly head – he really had no way to tell how much progress he was making. It was mid-morning when he was finally tempted to glance behind him, perhaps out of a longing for his home that he'd never left before – and could only see the tall grass. Tall grass behind, tall grass ahead, tall grass to his sides – for all he knew, he could only be a few feet away from the village! He dreaded the idea of climbing up to confirm it, for if it was true, heartache and despair could kill him right then and there.

He shook his head hard, and forced himself to walk forward...

… This _was_ forward, right? Uh-oh. Mickey paused, and panic began to creep up in his bones. Was it possible that his glance behind had turned him around completely? What if he wound up right back where he started? Or in a new direction away from his destination altogether? Now he felt dizzy, and he couldn't help but wonder if this had been a fool's decision all along. What he wouldn't give for a decent distraction!

“ _WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF!_ ”

That... hadn't exactly been what he'd been thinking of, but who was he to complain? Mickey could hear a dog barking clear as day, and far more panicked than he'd been mere seconds ago. No, this was a sound of genuine fear, and Mickey's good heart knew he had to help. With his own troubles instantly forgotten, Mickey headed towards the sound, hoping he wasn't too late.

A faint mercy came to him, in that he came upon a clearing where the grass was shorter just as the trees were getting taller. There was the smell of smoke and the crackle of wood burning, as a small campfire had been made between two Oni – one a mess of black wolf fur and hair sticking out all over the place, the other a stocky gray rabbit that was having difficulty keeping his eyes open. Both of them only had one small horn atop their heads, and they were watching the fire, waiting for the right amount of flame and heat, while their intended dinner continued to fight nearby.

The dinner was the dog – a poor golden pup that was wrestling in ropes, having resorted to barking since chewing the ropes had done little good. Mickey's heart sank like a wrecked ship – to think they were going to eat man's best friend!

“Make him shut up, Pacuvio!” The wolf growled, his ears twitching with annoyance. “Ain't we got enough rope left to tie that mutt's mouth shut?”

“'Fraid not, Hutch.” The rabbit replied after stifling a yawn. “We used the last bit of just getting him all tied up nice and neat. If we want him to hush, why, only thing left to do is...” He jerked his thumb across his throat and made a disgusting sound.

Mickey nearly jumped out of his sandals – absolutely not! He wouldn't let these dreadful Oni eat the dog! He grabbed the edge of his blade, ready to pull it out and...

… And then what? The last time he tried to take on even a single Oni, he'd been defeated within seconds. There was nothing to change it up now – no, worse, now he didn't have a big strong father to protect him. He couldn't defeat these Oni just by trying, that would only make things worse. But he couldn't stand by and let this happen. So what could a man only as tall as a peach pit do? He had to think of something before these wicked, brilliant Oni could act!

“I don't wanna do it,” said Hutch, visibly recoiling. “That's disgusting! You do it, you chop off his head.”

Pacuvio lifted his head, his droopy eyes taking on a bit of life. “Hey, you're the one who came up with this idea! I'm starving too, and we haven't managed to take over a single village... but if we go back like this, the Oni King will have our heads! So you chop off the dog's head.”

“I don't wanna do it! You do it!”

“I don't wanna do it either, but one of us has to do it, and it ain't gunna be me!”

“You do it!  
“ _You_ do it!”  
“You do it... times infinity!”

It then occurred to Mickey that he wasn't exactly facing off against wicked, brilliant Oni like in his father's legends. In fact... he let go of his sword, and decided to do a test. With gentle grace, he tip-toed into the clearing, scooting along the ground. The argument, if it could be called that, continued on without either of them noticing the extremely small person making his way around them. He was curious if they would've noticed him doing cartwheels and gymnastics, but this was no time to be a smart-alec.

Okay, he couldn't resist one cartwheel.

The pup hadn't noticed him yet, continuing to bark for his freedom, his four paws tied all together. It wasn't until he felt what he assumed was a bug walking on his ear that he tried to look around, and thus he wound up blinking at a very small person. This was such a shock to the dog that he immediately stopped barking.

The Oni realized this right away, and looked over at their victim – Mickey had enough sense to hide behind the dog's head, just in case. Pacuvio rubbed one sleepy eye. “Maybe he wore out his voice. I reckon I'm about to do the same, we keep goin' back and forth like this.”

“Well, we gotta settle this somehow, my belly is achin'!” Hutch grumbled, crossing his arms. “We ain't had anything to eat in days! We'll keel over before any mortal gets us... Aw, I wish things were back to the way with the old Oni King! He was a good egg!”

Pacuvio turned back to his companion, nodding in agreement. “Hear, hear. I was lookin' forward to that treaty, yes I was. No more fighting, we could all just live and let live. Now, we get bullied and bossed around, with no end in sight... but I'm still not chopping off the dog's head.”

“Only one way to settle this!” Hutch declared, and he held out his arm after rolling up his sleeve. “We arm-wrestle! Loser does the loppin'!”

“Oookaaay...” Pacuvio let the yawn escape this time, holding out his other arm to begin the match. “But it's only gunna make us hungrier, I bet.”

With the newest diversion at play, Mickey quickly set to work – he withdrew his “blade” and set to work trying to undo the knots. It was very difficult – sewing needles were not meant for such things, after all – but Mickey wouldn't give up. Samurai never gave up! The dog blinked and blinked again at the oddity trying to help him, trying and failing to make sense of it all. Given how long this was taking, it was reasonable to worry the Oni would catch him.

Thankfully, the Oni were evenly matched – way too evenly matched. They were grunting and grinding their teeth, using all their remaining strength to stay up while trying to pin down their opponent, and ultimately making no real progress at all. Thread by thread, little by little, Mickey finally managed to hack away enough rope so that one of the dog's paws was freed. As he set to work on the next one, the dog helped by using his own sharp paws to claw at the remaining ropes.

All in all, this took about ten minutes – and the wrestling match was still going on. The dog stretched out his legs when he was finally free, grateful to move again, and Mickey was relieved that he could finally be of use... but not as relieved as he thought he'd be. He watched the grown men, who now appeared ready to pass out, and felt a twinge of pity. They were hungry, and desperate, and they clearly didn't want to have done the thing they'd nearly done.

He looked at the dog, who could have run away, but instead the pup looked back at him, as if waiting for a command. Mickey thought about the bits of bread and cheese he'd taken along. He considered leaving it behind for the Oni to eat, but even as starving as they were, it would be mere crumbs to such giants. Though it was no fault of his own, he made a mental apology that he could do no more for them.

“I ain't doin' it!” Hutch barked, nearing his limit of physical limitations.

“Well, neither am I!” Pacuvio shot right back, his body trembling with weakness.

In one, angry, exhausted yell, both men cried out, “YOU DO IT!” with such force that they slammed their heads together, and with one unanimous K.O. , they fell to the ground.

Mickey watched them for a few more seconds, mostly just to confirm he did see exactly that. “Huh,” he said out loud, scratching his head. “I was kind of hoping my first defeat of an Oni would be a bit more...exciting.” Maybe this was one legend he wouldn't pass down the family line.

With that out of the way, Mickey turned to the dog, hands on his hips. “All right, you take care of yourself now, pal! The world's a scary place, especially with all those Oni around...” he trailed off, giving this speech a bit more thought. “... I mean, you could run into more capable ones. Probably. Possibly.” He cleared his throat, trying to return to the stance of the heroic samurai. “That is, you're free to go!”

But the dog merely laid down on the ground, head between his paws, with a small _whuff_ as he waited. Mickey didn't know much about animals, given his mother's fairly reasonable fright of him being eaten by one, but he tried to guess what the pup was conveying. “What's the matter? Don't you have a home to go to?” The dog shook his head, and then nudged Mickey with its big black nose, almost accidentally bowling him over. “W-whoa! Hey, uh...” Mickey caught his footing, starting to guess better. “Are you sayin'... you wanna come along with me? Since I got you free?”

The dog nodded quickly, with rapid panting that nearly sounded like a joyful “ _yeah yeah yeah!_ ”

Mickey's eyes widened, and he felt as if his heart was doing the same, as it was filled with so much joy it could have burst. “Aw! Really? Really really? That's great! We'll be traveling companions!” He then turned his hand slowly around his wrist, wanting to create a dramatic atmosphere. “But I warn you, it won't be easy! I'm heading to the capital of Japan, where the Princess lives, so I can ask her to grant me the power of the Lucky Hammer! We may meet many more deadly Oni on our journey!”

Hutch began to snore.

“Uh...we may meet _actual_ deadly Oni on our journey.” This was getting off-track again. “I guess I can't just call you 'dog'... wouldn't be right. Everyone and everything deserves a name, and we're going to be friends, my friend needs a name!” Mickey took a look back at the Oni, and saw it fitting that he could use a combination of their unusual names to give his new ally a unique one. “How's about... Puh... Hul... Pluto?”

The dog glanced upwards as it thought about his new moniker, found it acceptable, and decided to show his gratitude by giving Mickey a big lick – although he only intended it to be a small thank you, it wound up knocking Mickey over. But Mickey laughed merrily anyway, managing to hug Pluto's nose and rub it with affection. “Pluto it is! My first real friend, Pluto! Alley-oop!” He began to climb up Pluto's face, and continued on until he sat comfortably atop Pluto's head. “There we go, now I can see clearly!” Now he could be sure which way was which, and make way with sheer confidence!

“Onward, Pluto! To the royal palace!” With that, the next leg of the samurai's epic journey began...

… and promptly ended when he fell off as Pluto ran.

Luckily it only took a short time for Pluto to realize he was one rider short, and he was quick to return to Mickey's side. The young man dizzily sat up, holding up a finger as he waited for the world to set itself back straight. “Lemme try that again, but this time, mind if I hold onto an ear?”

Pluto didn't mind, and with that, the next leg of the samurai's epic journey really began. While Mickey still wasn't entirely sure that this was indeed the right path to take in order to reach the palace, he was sure that it wasn't the way back to the village. Hope had been restored in his heart, although hunger was still in his belly. Were other Oni desperate and starving like that too? The Oni King had hoped to make the mortals suffer, but his own kin were hurting just as much. What a terrible ruler this Oni was, and what a shame the old Oni King and his family had died just as peace was within their grasp.

He began to get one of this three-pronged headaches, and if he wasn't holding onto one of Pluto's thin black ears to avoid flying off, he would have rubbed his head in pain. Boy, those were becoming more frequent lately. He hoped it wasn't a bad omen of things to come, and instead focused on the future, where he would be tall enough to give Pluto proper pettings.

~*~

Daisy woke up first, as she usually did, since the burden of housework was on her shoulders. Not that she minded – she was typically a happy housewife and mother, and longed for little more. Although the Oni still had a hold on her village, she tried to face the morning with a spring in her step. Nothing was the same forever, and it was high time she celebrated her son's birthday. No Oni would make her child unhappy, not if she had anything to say about it!

“Good morning, Mickey.” she said sweetly as she headed for the drawer, ready to greet him and start the day off right. “I know things have been bad, but we're going to change that with a big birthday party! How does that sound?” She opened the drawer...

… And screamed to high heaven.

Donald bolted up from sleep, scrambling to his feet, trying to find the enemy that was attacking his wife. “Who, what, when, where, sometimes why?!”

“MICKEEEY!” Daisy frantically began pulling out each and every drawer, trying to find her son, rechecking the drawers just in case, but there was no trace of him. “Mickey! Where are you?!”

“Huh?” Donald blinked rapidly, and managed to dodge one of the drawers she tossed behind her in her frustration. “What's going on? What's this about Mickey?”

“HE'S GONE!” His wife shrieked, and when it was clear he wasn't in or around the drawer, she began tossing and turning over every single piece of furniture in the bedroom, calling his name and growing more hysterical by the second. “Mickey! Mickey! MICKEEEYYY!”

“Now hold on,” Donald continued to dodge anything accidentally tossed his way. “I'm sure he's not _gone_ , he's small! He could be anywhere in the house and we'd easily miss him.” Although he knew Mickey well enough that the boy wouldn't keep his mother waiting this long to pop out. “Maybe he went to get a head start on breakfast. I'll search the kitchen.” His arm still ached, and he rubbed it as he left the bedroom, hoping his wife wouldn't be reduced to tearing up the floorboards. Surely Mickey was around here somewhere, where else would he go? Why would he go?

But as Donald inspected the kitchen, a creeping sense of dread began to flow through his skin. Mickey could be quite mischievous, but he wasn't cruel, he would have shown himself after all this noise. Donald quietly began calling out Mickey's name as he looked through the cupboards, that bad feeling getting worse with each failure. No, no, the house was large, very large! He had to be somewhere! They never let any animals inside the house, so nothing could have taken him away. If he had moved, it would have been his own choice, and Mickey had no reason to leave.

Except, Donald remembered, a very big, painful reason.

Husband and wife searched from top to bottom, from the attic to the very dirt beneath the house, and as Daisy cried in anguish while re-searching the house, Donald's suspicions made him physically ill. He was tempted to put on his armor when he was ready to talk to Daisy, as he figured that would be the only thing keeping her from killing him.

“Mickeeeyyy!” Daisy called out again as she searched the attic for the third time, her face wet with tears. Donald awkwardly stood behind her as she smoothed down the floor with her hands, trying to detect a footprint or a sign of her son. “Oh, where could he be? What could have happened? My poor baby is out in the world, lost, alone, and in danger! Why would he leave? Why? Why? WHYYYY?”

Donald braced himself by inhaling deeply. “I... might have an idea.”

Daisy whipped her head around so fast her hair smacked Donald in the face, leaving a mark. She blinked, and then squinted. “Did you do something?”

Donald uneasily took a step backwards, holding up his hands in defense. “I need you to understand, it was a very frustrating night when the Oni attacked Grandma's arm. I was tired, and injured, and everything was lost.”

Daisy rose to her feet, fists clenched. “What did you do.”

“And, the boy, well, you know him, he got these ridiculous ideas in his head, he thinks he can do all these things but he's so small, so-”

“ _What did you do._ ”

“He tried, but he really couldn't do much of anything, I had to get him out of there, but he was being so stubborn, gets it from you if you ask me-”

Daisy's hand lashed out, grabbing Donald and slamming him into the wall, her eyes a blazing hellfire from which there was no escape. “WHAT. DID. YOU. _DO_.”

Donald tried to think of a way to tell her in the gentlest way, but really, there had been nothing gentle about what he'd done that night. It had been harsh and cruel, and worse still, he couldn't make himself apologize. He prepared himself for the worse, closing his eyes. “I... I told him... he wasn't part of our clan, he wasn't part of our village, and... and... and that he wasn't my son.” He then held his breath, waiting for the inevitable pain and punishment. Maybe she'd poke his eyes out, or sock him in the mouth, or throw him out the window.

But none of these things happened – in fact, nothing happened at all. Donald waited, then questioned if she heard him at all, which was silly since she was directly in front of him. He hesitantly opened one eye to see what was taking so long.

Daisy was angry, this much was obvious, but there was a sadness there that was so awful and agonizing that Donald truly wished she had struck him instead. He'd never seen her so sad, not even when she longed for a child in her barren womb. Her face was falling slowly, shocked by what she'd heard, her fingers loosening their hold on his clothes. “How...” Her voice trembled, and it felt like an arrow shot right into Donald's heart. “How could you... say such things to him?”

Donald's shoulders sank, and he couldn't stand to look at her heartbroken face. “I... he was... he was only going to get himself hurt, if he kept it up! He wanted to help, and he can't, Daisy! He can't help anyone!” The more he tried to excuse himself, the worse it sounded. He was angry because... Mickey wanted to help? Because for all of Donald's aggravation and abuse, Mickey still turned out to be a decent, good person?

“This is _his home_ , Donald!” Daisy protested, fresh tears in her eyes. “And you made him feel like he doesn't belong! You made him think he'd rather face the awful, terrible dangers of the world than be safe here!”

Each correct accusation was a new wound, and Donald reached out to his wife in an attempt to comfort her. “Daisy, I'm sorry-”

“Don't apologize to me!” She slapped his hand away. “You know who you need to apologize to... and we have to go find him now!” She marched towards the stairs. “We need the entire village searching!”

“The Oni won't allow that!” Donald followed after her. “You remember what they want, everyone needs to work twice as hard to keep up with their demands! And for all we know, Mickey might have left the village completely, he could be anywhere by now!”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Daisy asked angrily, hands on her hips on the bottom step. “Searching every single village will take forever, we don't have eyes and ears everywhere!”

Donald paused mid-step as an idea occurred to him. “No, we don't... but I know who does.” He cupped his chin, going over the possibilities. “It might be a long shot, but... perhaps the Princess could help us out. She can send out plenty of soldiers to look for Mickey, sweeping all over the land. One of my friends still works at the palace, he could put in a good word for us.” That same friend had kept him updated about the royals from time to time, and had been the very same one to tell him about the broken treaty years before. If luck was finally in Donald's favor, the man would still be there, and if he was, Donald had no doubt he'd help out.

Daisy gasped in relief. “You mean... _him_? That lady-killing Casanova who hit on me _and_ you?”

“That was one time,” Donald said quickly, “but yes. The Emperor trusted him as much as he did me, and I'm sure the Princess will listen to her father's trusted guard. We need to get there as soon as possible – and we need to leave the village before the Oni notice we're gone.”

That meant they had to move quickly, so there was no time for Daisy to thank Donald for his brilliant idea save for a brief kiss on the cheek – and a kick in the shin for causing the problem in the first place. She took the bread and cheese from the kitchen – the very same Mickey had taken scraps from – while Donald grabbed his trusted sword.

Donald wished he could have informed his family of his departure, but he worried whatever information he left behind would bring the Oni's wrath upon them. In fact, part of him knew that the Princess would easily reject this idea, Donald's friend notwithstanding. She had an entire land to protect from the Oni, and couldn't afford to waste manpower searching for an incredibly small person. There was no sound reason this plan would work.

Yet he held Daisy's hand tightly as they fled from the village, never telling her about those dark thoughts. If Mickey could face several deadly Oni and refuse to back down, then Donald had no right to give up without trying. Or maybe they were both stupidly stubborn to a fault.

Little did they know that they were following the exact trail that the small samurai had taken.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mickey resumes his journey with his new alley, he discovers the unique advantages of his so-called curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> Feel free to read this after you finish the chapter proper. Good? Good.
> 
> For those of you who recognized the role of the Monkey, you might be wondering what in the world I was thinking - and for those who have no idea who that is, it was a VERY short-lived Disney toon based on Belgian comics. The story I'm basing this on required a monkey, but as I traversed through Disney monkeys, most of them were either one-shots or would have basically been another Pluto. So I stumbled upon this familiar face and thought - why the heck not?

Mickey and his new friend were very happy together as they traveled through the forests and plains. Mickey found he had plenty to say, and Pluto was an excellent listener so Mickey would regale him with tales of his amazing father. While Mickey was glad to have a companion, and his first real friend to boot, there were two big issues that needed to be solved. The first was that while now Mickey could see where he was going, he still couldn't be sure if it was in the right direction of the Princess. The second was that now that he had a traveling ally, he needed to expand his resources – he'd already devoured his bread and cheese, and he knew a big dog like Pluto would need a big meal.

“I suppose we ought to find a nearby town to grab some food,” Mickey said out loud, Pluto walking at a brisk pace. “But I haven't got a coin to my name.” Stealing was out of the question. “I guess I could try to work for it. I'm sure there's something a little guy like me can do.” Pluto didn't nod, not wanting Mickey to fall off his head, and instead gave a little 'yipyip' of agreement. “Hey, we can work together! Two heads are better than one. You sure are a smart pup.” Now came the matter of actually finding a village – and hoping it wouldn't delay them too far from their journey.

They traversed over a hill, and at first, it appeared luck was finally showing them mercy, as Mickey could spot the faint signs of buildings down below. It was quite the small village, one could walk right through it in less than fifteen minutes, he guessed, if you were normal sized. But whatever luck had been granted to the two was swiftly taken away – as they began to approach the village, they could hear shrieks of horror and sounds of destruction. Mickey jerked right to attention. “Oni must be attacking the village!” he declared, and he whipped out his needle-blade. “Pluto, we gotta help these people!”

Pluto woofed, again agreeing, and began to run as fast as all four legs could take him. Frightened men and women ran past the dog, not seeing the tiny samurai atop. Pluto headed for the opposite direction of the fleeing villagers, which took them to a very tall inn, which was the town's pride and joy. Hanging from a window was the source of the problem, although it was so high up Mickey couldn't tell if it was man, beast or Oni – he assumed Oni given how it was ripping through the wood and brick of the building, banging its fists to break the windows and throwing out whatever it could reach of the rooms inside. What a truly terrifying Oni! It was going through that building like it was mere paper!

Yet Mickey was puzzled as Pluto came to a stop at the building's base. The Oni at his village had destroyed Grandma's farm as part of the battle and to subdue the villagers into submission. What was the point of ripping apart a building?

“PUT ME DOWN!” A voice yelled from above – the “Oni” had taken a man from within the building and waved him around recklessly. “I SAID PUT ME DOWN, MAURICE, I SAID – Actually, on second thought, the ground is rather far, isn't it? Is there a way you can put me up?” The request was ignored, and the hapless victim was thrown down hard into a passing wagon – the force of his fall so great that all four wheels fell off at once. The saving mercy was that it had been full of hay, so when the man slid down onto the dirt, he wasn't dead – though the pain might've made him wish he was.

Mickey tugged on Pluto's ear to direct him towards the moaning man, and he sat up once they were close. “Sir, are you all right?”

The man didn't appear to be much younger than Mickey's father, and Mickey wasn't sure if his black nose was swollen from the landing or had always been that huge. He dizzily sat up, his loose-fitting robes covered in as many spots as his natural fur – yellow with black dots – and his tail appeared to be endlessly long. The man shook his head, then pulled his tail back, using it as a makeshift belt to keep his outfit from sliding off. “I'm alive, kid, which in this world, counts as all right.” He then finally looked at who was taking to him, and his eyes were wider than clean dinner plates. “Ooorrr, maybe not, considering the concussion I'm apparently having.”

Mickey could guess about the confusion. “Your eyes don't deceive you, sir. I'm really this small.”

The long-tailed man might have debated about head injuries versus reality if the “Oni” on the building hadn't let out a monstrous roar. The man let out a grunt as he got to his feet. “I can't believe he's doing this! If he keeps this up, he might destroy the entire town!”

“But why would he?” Mickey asked, still curious. “Oni are supposed to be taking over the towns, not totally destroying them.”

“That's no Oni! That's my pal, Maurice!” He pointed towards the offending obstacle, and as it began to climb down, Mickey couldn't see any the trademark horns on his head. Granted, being a gigantic, muscular, purple gorilla wasn't really much better, given how it was ripping off window hinges and using its big feet to kick in large cracks. “But it's the Oni's fault, I tell you! He wouldn't do this if he was in his right mind!”

There was a story here, with not a lot of time to tell. “What did the Oni do? What happened, sir?”

“First off, enough with the 'Sir's! That's for snoots, snobs, and seniors! I'm in the prime of my youth, I'll have you know!” He undid his tail belt, and began whipping it around like a lasso. “Second, name's Marsupilami! Mars for short, Mister Marsupilami The Manly Magnificent for long! And third... you need to get going while the going's good! A shrimp like you is only going to get hurt!” He then threw out his tail, and it whipped around Maurice's left leg, tugging on it tight. “Leave this to me! Maurice and I are best friends, and he wouldn't lay a finger on me!”

“Sir – ah, Mister...Marsupilami? Didn't he just throw you?”

“Well, sure, he didn't lay a finger on me. He laid four.” Any further leaps of logic were put on hold as Maurice grabbed the tail used to constrict him, and yanked Marsupilami forward, using him as a crude wrecking ball into the building over and over.

Mickey winced, and then began to hop off of Pluto's head. “I'm not going anywhere until we stop this guy! Pluto, help the villagers steer clear of this mess, they might trample one another!” Pluto yipped, and jogged off to help corral the scared townsfolk, leading them away from Maurice's rampage and the piles of damage he'd been leaving around. Maurice released Marsupilami after five more good whacks, jumping onto the ground and hitting the dirt with his clenched fists over and over, letting out another primal roar.

Mickey knew he couldn't best the beast in battle, but as he watched the giant gorilla stomp around, one thing looked off – Maurice continuously kept trying to stay on his right leg, but kept falling onto his left, as otherwise he couldn't keep his balance. Yet every time he used his left, it only made him madder, and made him cry out louder, as he punched a hole right through a nearby house. Mickey kept this note in his head as he came to the collapsed Marsupilami's side, trying to lightly poke him back to consciousness. “He's madder than a nest of hornets that were kicked six ways from Sunday! What did the Oni do to him?”

“How I would love to tell you, little boy who I'm still convinced isn't sort of pain-induced delusion...” Marsupilami rolled onto his side, eyes rolling this way and that. “But, here's the deal. I don't know exactly what they did – the came into town this morning, trying to take it over for their King, you know the whole song and dance. Maurice and I decided to do the brave thing and retreat until our help was needed-”

“You ran away.”

“ _Retreated_. Anyway, just as we were in the clear, all of a sudden Maurice yells at the top of his lungs, and goes bananas! At first I figured he's trying to scare off the Oni, and I tell you, they were scared off! But they must've done something to him, because he began trying to wreck everything he could get his hands on! He beat those Oni good, sent them packing, but then he began hitting anyone who came near! I've been trying to set his head straight, but it's like he can't hear me!”

Stranger and stranger – as far as Mickey understood it, the Oni didn't have the power to make anyone behave in any certain way. If they could, taking over Japan would be a cinch. “I think you're looking about this the wrong way. If there's something wrong with your friend, we have to find the wrong and right it!”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Marsupilami pushed himself to his feet, wobbly due to all the aches and pains he'd suffered trying to get Maurice to stop. “Look at him! He's all muscle! Even his brain is muscle! If I, his most trusted confidant, can't get through to him, what makes you think you can?”

“Because giving up is not an option!” Mickey countered. If Marsupilami wasn't going to do anything but argue, then Mickey had no choice but to act. He held onto his blade with both hands and ran for the gorilla, despite Marsupilami calling him every name for “fool” in the book and then some. As Mickey got closer, the ground shook harder, and Maurice kept smashing and throwing, throwing and smashing – oblivious to the very small samurai near his feet. Mickey didn't quite have a plan of action in mind, but standing by was not an option.

“Kid, you're gunna get killed!” Marsupilami called after him, cupping his hands around his mouth. “You're gunna get squashed! Flattened! Pancaked! The tiniest smear on the ground!” Yet no matter what clear danger Marsupilami yelled about, the young boy wouldn't come back. Was he insane? Or just dumb? He couldn't make heads or tails of it, and seeing as his tail could go on for miles, he felt very sure about this.

Mickey didn't run away, but he did wind up running back and forth in circles – with the gorilla stomping around so much, it was taking every ounce of Mickey's energy just to dodge those big feet. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up this pace – but as he kept running and watching the stomping, he thought he saw something underneath the gorilla's left foot. It happened very quickly, but because Mickey was so small, he knew what he'd seen. If his guess was right, then... a plan instantly formed.

He jumped onto a piece of debris, and then onto a piece of roof that had fallen from the building. “Marsupilami! I need your help!”

“Did you finally come to your senses, kid? Get out of there!”

“I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you! If you really thought this situation was hopeless, you would have 'retreated' and left him behind! But Maurice is your friend, isn't he? So if you want to help your friend, you'll do exactly what I say!”

Marsupilami opened, then closed, his mouth. For such a small lad, he saw more than most people, and understood them far quicker. He stuck out his lips, hemming and hawing before admitting defeat, twirling his tail around in his fingers. “Not that I really think any idea of yours is going to work... but let's say for the moment I'm willing to listen. What is it you want me to do?”

Mickey used his blade to point back to Maurice. “Instead of just grabbing one leg, use your tail to grab them both! Get him to fall on the ground!”

“That won't hold him down for long, he'll break out of my grasp!”

“I don't need long!” Mickey thrust a fist to his heart, eyes shining without fear and with determination. “What's more important, believing I'm wrong or helping your friend?”

When it was put that way, it wasn't really a choice at all. Marsupilami gritted his teeth, and began to whip his tail around. “Yours is going to be one tiny funeral ceremony, boy... here I go!” He spun his tail around as far and fast as he could before throwing it forward, ensnaring both of Maurice's legs. With a great, mighty tug, the gorilla fell flat on his back, though he continued to put up a ferocious fight about it.

Mickey stepped back, and then jumped off the roof piece, needing only one swift motion with his needle to undo what he saw – Marsupilami thought he saw something pop out of Maurice's foot – and when Mickey landed, the world was still and calm. Maurice immediately stopped his bellowing, blinking up at the sky, slowly breathing in and out. Marsupilami's eyes bulged. “What the... what happened? What did you do?”

With a bit of pride, Mickey walked over to what had caused the whole mess and picked it up – a tiny, sharp rock. “Big guy just had this stuck in his foot, is all! I think he ought to start wearing shoes, might help him out.”

Pluto returned at this moment, and obediently strode up to his master, giving him a sniff to make sure all was well. Marsupilami stood there for another moment or two in disbelief before walking up to Maurice and unwrapping his tail. “How're you feeling, big guy?”

Maurice sat up, and rubbed his sore foot before giving a thumbs up. Without his pain and rage, he had a much happier, albeit sillier expression on his face, with several yellow teeth sticking out in all directions. Looking at him now, Mickey felt as if this cheerful fellow wouldn't want to harm a fly. Marsupilami offered a hand to help the gorilla up. “All that fuss for one rock? I never would have guessed! But it was so small, I never would have seen it either... only this kiddo could've! Astonishing as it is to believe, perhaps I was wrong about you. This calls for proper re-introductions.” He cleared his throat, bowing deeply with a reaching arm, and Maurice did the same. “My name is Marsupilami! And this is my gorilla pal, Maurice!”

“I'm Mickey...” On instinct, Mickey almost said his family name, but managed to stop himself at the last second. Considering his father's great shame of him, perhaps it was not yet time to reveal who he was related to. “And this is my friend Pluto.” Pluto woofed, bowing his head. “But is there still something wrong with your friend? He hasn't said a word.”

“And never will, too.” Marsupilami replied with a half shrug. “Big fella never has. So I do all the talking for him... and most of the thinking, too. Friends forever, him and I, which comes with its ups and downs. The ups is that, in gratitude for helping him, allow me to treat you folks to dinner.”

Mickey's growling stomach was more than pleased with this offer, but... “What's the downs?”

Marsupilami glanced over at Maurice who smiled sheepishly. “Well, when the townsfolk find out that the Oni had nothing to do with Maurice wrecking everything, they're going to be the smallest bit miffed. After our meal, we gotta banana split... although I'm not sure where we could go.” He shrugged helplessly, then began to wrap his tail around himself again. “We've mostly been scavengers, you see. We find the things that need to be found – fat fish in the river, ripe mushrooms pluck for the picking...”

Mickey's stomach growled even louder, although it was a growl of an idea. “Y'know, me and Pluto are on a journey towards the capital of Japan, and have a long ways to go... but we don't know what's good to eat or even how to get it. Why don't you come along with us? I'm sure they'll have plenty of room for you both once we get there.”

Marsupilami and Maurice exchanged a look, wordlessly communicating with their hands. Maurice gave two thumbs up, and Marsupilami slapped his hands together. “All right, you've got yourself a deal! We'll show you the lay of the land!” First things first, that promised dinner. Marsupilami led the way, swinging the tip of his tail around like a toy. “All the way to the capital, though... I've never been, but they say the Princess there is a real beauty! A one of a kind gem – but just as hard and stony. Whatever you're planning to do there, you'd better steel yourself.” Maurice grunted, seemingly concurring with his friend, and thumping a fist to his chest. “Maurice is right! If she's a gem, then you need to be stone!”

Mickey wasn't really sure what that meant, but he figured these men were older and wiser and thus had to be right to a certain degree. If the Princess was going to be stubborn about the Lucky Hammer... well then, Mickey would be more stubborn! Yet even the most cold-hearted of brutes would surely understand his very small plight. He didn't care for the idea of being a sharp stone in the Princess' foot. As much as he longed for heroics in battle like his father, he had to admit he was relieved that he didn't have to hurt Maurice to save the day.

Was that how a samurai was supposed to act and think? He kept these thoughts to himself, as he and his new allies shoved food down their stomachs as soon as possible before the frightened villagers understood there was nothing to be frightened about.

Yet when the group of five all departed from the village, they left behind something unusual – Mickey, Marsupilami, and Maurice had all been so distracted that they never realized that one or two of the townsfolk had seen the final fight for themselves. One man's facts turned into another's gossip, becoming more and more wild with every passing whisper and word. Much as the wind easily carries a leaf, so did the story carry on, leaving the village and passing through the lands.

“Did you hear? Far back into town, with a great big cry, the legend himself – the Inch High Samurai!”

~*~

Donald and Daisy, for their part, had yet to hear any rumors, not that they were staying in any one place too long to listen to them. They had only one goal in mind, and were willing to sacrifice sleep and food in order to get there as soon as possible. Only when one saw the exhaustion on their partner's face did they ever stop to eat and sleep, and even this was often a struggle that wound up in a very loud argument. 

As they neared a nearby forest, their current argument – Donald was insisting Daisy ride atop his back so her weary feet could rest, while she countered his body was already strained and she wouldn't strain it further – reached a fever pitch, the married couple continuing to shout while holding hands with each other in a loving fashion. The image this created was both very adorable and very ridiculous.

“WILL YOU BOTH SHADDAP!” A loud voice boomed from the forest, causing both ducks to jump in surprise.

Donald pushed his wife behind him and drew out his blade. “Who goes there?”

“We goes here,” a tired voice replied, softer and relaxed than the first. “And we are just trying to get some sleep. If we sleep every time we're hungry, we won't be hungry.”

“I'm not sure you've got that right,” Daisy said, poking her head over Donald's shoulder. Donald frowned, and dared to inch closer to the source of the noise. Within the forest, two Oni were laying down flat on their backs – Hutch and Pacuvio, the very same Oni that had captured Pluto. The sight of their horns made Donald tighten the grip on his sword, ready to do battle, even though the two were so thin and tired they looked like they'd lose a fight with a goldfish. Daisy, on the other hand, saw an opportunity. “Have either of you seen a boy that's only as small as a peach pit?”

“Can't say we have,” said Pacuvio, eyes closed and hands folded on his chest. “I would've definitely remembered seeing a little boy.”

“Can it already!” Hutch barked, holding himself tightly and rolling onto his side. “If I'm awake, I'm hungry! Last meal we even got close to having was that dog, and it got away! Pacuvio, you should have tied it tighter!”

“I tied it as tight as I could, Hutch, but... aw, I'm too hungry to argue.”

Donald spotted the torn rope laying in the grass, and picked it up, tempted to use it to tie up the Oni even if they could barely open their eyes. It was difficult to fight against old instincts. Yet as he held it up, he saw tiny marks on the rope that appeared very familiar. “Daisy, come look at this.” She appeared at his side and squinted, before her eyes widened. “I know he liked to use that sewing needle of yours as a blade, but...?”

“Oh, he did come through here!” Daisy squealed with delight. “A sign that he's alive! Maybe we'll find him before we even reach the capital! What wondrous news!” She was so overcome with joy and merriment that she thrust her hands into her satchel and pulled out a huge chunk of bread. “You two, you must have this!”

Donald let out a WAK instead of a “What!”, and both Oni bolted upwards immediately. Without giving it a second thought, they yanked the bread out of her hands and began to devour it. “Daisy! What are you thinking, giving the enemy our food?” Donald slapped his hands on his hips.

“These two aren't my enemy, and they gave us a lead on our son,” Daisy replied, taking the rope and hugging it close to her chest, as if that was the very boy she loved so dearly. “I don't care what they are, that's good enough for me!”

Donald gritted his teeth, but given how fast the bread was swallowed, there wasn't anything he could do about it now. He rubbed his temples, and tried to put the pieces together of what he had learned. These two Oni had captured a dog to eat, and Mickey freed it without being spotted. That was... hm! Well! So what if he wasn't spotted? He was very small, it would have been difficult to spot him anyway. And what if the dog wound up biting or, even worse, trying to eat Mickey? His foolish kindness would have been for nothing! What right did Mickey have to go around trying to save people when he could never save himself?

His aching arm began to throb much harder, and Donald winched, rubbing it in an effort to soothe his nerves. Hutch wiped his mouth on his arm. “Phew... I was so close to death's door, I think I saw death's windows and basement. Now we can go back to what we were doing in the first place – taking over villages for the Oni King.”

“See!” Donald snapped, his hand beginning to pull out his blade. “I knew it, they can't be trusted! Look at how they repay your kindness! You're the one, Daisy, who put those fool thoughts in Mickey's head! Kindness will get you killed!”

“A lot of things will get you killed,” Pacuvio said after a great big yawn. “And not even trying to take over one village will definitely get us killed by the Oni King.”

Daisy shut Donald's mouth with her fingers without even looking at him, though Donald grumbled very loudly as she held him. “Is that true? He'd be willing to kill his own people if they don't do what he wants? That's awful! Can't anyone stop him?”

“Only a stronger Oni can defeat the Oni King.” Hutch said as he rose to his feet. “That's the way it's always been – the current King became King after he killed the last one. If some other Oni came along and defeated the King we have... we'd have to obey him too. But right now, there ain't anyone stronger than he is. He's super smart!”

“A master of disguise.” Pacuvio added.  
“He knows the ways of mortal and Oni!”  
“He's tricky and mean and has unpleasant body odor.”  
“And once he realizes we haven't sent a signal in forever-”

Suddenly Pacuvio jammed an elbow into Hutch's ribs, making him cough and sputter, nearly upchucking the bread he'd eaten. Hutch realized what he said, and shifted away uneasily. “Uh, that is, I mean... aw, all that starvation made me stupid!”

Pacuvio looked back and forth between Donald's blade and his ally's fearful face. He clicked his tongue, then backed away. “In exchange for the bread, we'll let you keep that bit of info, and no one has to fight today. C'mon, Hutch.” He took his friend by the arm and lead him away – Hutch, who was much bigger and stronger than Pacuvio, was nervously biting his nails, horrified at what he had let slip. It was almost as if he'd have preferred to starve to death.

“I wonder what that was about,” Daisy said out loud once the Oni were far gone – she had no worries about those two taking over any villages, and if she had to guess, those two would probably wound up right back here in the same situation. It was a sad state of affairs. “What do you think they meant by a signal?”

“Once we reach the capital, we can tell the Princess and they can figure it out... but we can't waste time wondering.” Donald took his wife's hand and roughly led her back to the trail. Years ago, he would seized onto that grasp of knowledge, and never let the Oni go without spilling more. The current Oni King was so wrapped up in mystery that a single clue was worth a fortune. But now?

Now all he could think of, much to his frustration, was that if he had been in Mickey's shoes... he would've done the exact same thing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Oni King watches over his pawns, Mickey needs a teacher just in time for a master who never had a student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my awesome editor Drucilla!
> 
> Not much to say here, except that I love Panchito forever and always. With that, Momotaro has gathered the dog, the monkey, and the pheasant - time for the real adventure to begin!

With food and friends with him, Mickey felt even more confident on the way to the Princess and the Lucky Hammer. They had left the small town far behind them, and now walked on a dirt road underneath the hot, unforgiving sun. The heat was relentless, and there were no trees nearby to shade them. Mickey made an effort to distract his allies by weaving them tales of his glorious father and his battles against the deadly Oni. Maurice ate up every word, even applauding at grand victories, but Marsupilami was less than impressed, continuously toying with the end of his long tail.

“...and with that,” Mickey finished, trying to mime the battle out and not fall off of Pluto's head, “he sliced off the Oni's horn without breaking a sweat! Humiliated, the Oni fled the countryside, unable to ever show it's face again. Oh, he vowed revenge against my father, but not once did the great sir Donald ever flinch! 'If you ever come back', he declared with his head held high, 'I'll be here, ready to repeat history!'”

Maurice clapped again and again, sounding off a few pleased grunts and Pluto's tail wagged back and forth, quietly yipping his own happiness. Marsupilami rolled his eyes at the animal applause, while Mickey flashed a prideful grin, arms crossed. “A-huh! My old man's pretty great, ain't he? And when I get the Lucky Hammer, I'm going to be just like him! There won't be an Oni that can stand up to me.”

“Listen, kid,” Marsupilami began, trying to keep the droll out of his voice, “Not that the last... seven straight hours of you yammering about your dad haven't been great...but don't you think you're setting your standards kind of out of reach?” A brief pause. “And for once, I don't mean your height.”

Mickey blinked rapidly, confused right away. “What do you mean?”

“Having a goal is fine. Having a reasonable one is even better. Having a sane one is best of all. Take me and Maurice here,” he jabbed a thumb to his friend, who had decided to pass the time by picking his teeth clean, “Our main goal is to survive. That's it. And that's easily done by the end of the day. But you? You've got...” he counted off his fingers, “Make it to the capitol, see the Princess, convince the Princess to let you use the Lucky Hammer, hope that it's not a fairy tale and it actually does make you taller,cross your fingers your folks aren't mad at you for vanishing, and then become as good a samurai as your father was. Add in all the Oni we might run into as you come and go, and boy oh boy, you've got a mile long list of impossible things in a row.”

Having never actually discussed this plan with anyone else, Mickey was astonished to hear that, yes, it did seem like a lot of odds would have to work in his favor to make it all work. He thought about this, tilting his head as he mulled it over. “I wouldn't say they're impossible,” he decided. “Just difficult. And I don't plan on giving up on any of them.”

“I didn't say you had to give up...” Marsupilami then quickly muttered under his breath, “Retreating, however, I would fully endorse.” Maurice nudged his ribs, making Marsupilami speak normally again. “I'm just saying not planning on giving up is not really a plan. I'm sure on the way to the capitol you can think of some grand speech to knock the princess' socks off, if she doesn't take one look at you and burst into pity tears...”

“Gee, thanks.”

“... but if your end goal is to be as good a samurai as your father was, you have to actually learn how to use a sword. Me and Maurice are grateful that you got him freed, but not every enemy you face is going to have something easily fixed. You're going to have to learn how to fight.”

Mickey was forced to concede that his sharp-tongued ally had a point. His enemy last time had technically been a rock, and before that, rope. Donald had been taught proper swordsmanship by his own father, and Mickey could only guess how to handle a blade based on exaggerated stories. If he wanted to carry on the family tradition and protect those he cared about, he needed to learn what he was doing – he needed a teacher.

“But where am I going to find someone to teach me?” Mickey asked out loud. “We can't go wasting time searching in every single village, or I'll never make it to the Lucky Hammer.”

“Not to mention finding someone who wouldn't give up at the sight of you,” Marsupilami felt his opinion was needed.

“Again, thanks.”

What to do, what to do? Maurice cupped his chin and tilted his head in thought, as did Marsupilami, as did Mickey, as did Pluto, who almost accidentally dropped Mickey off his head again. The heat was making it especially hard to think, and it felt as if their brains were going to get as sweaty as their bodies. They all let out a mutual “Hmmm”, which, after hearing an odd sound far off ahead, turned into a mutual “Hmmm?”

The noise turned out to be hoofbeats, belonging to one very tired horse that had four Oni riding atop it, and the poor horse was doing everything in its power to kick them off. Three of the Oni were huge, muscular brutes with beagle-faced snouts and dark hoods sitting on their necks. The fourth one was also beagle-shaped and hooded, but was also very puny, lacked any muscles, and was forced to hang onto the horse's tail if he wanted to keep on riding. The Oni sitting at the very front spotted Mickey and his companions, and pulled on the reins as tight as he could. “I found our next target, brothers!”

Marsupilami began to back up, as did Maurice. “Who's up for a good ol' retreating lesson?”

“Samurai never retreat from a battle!” Mickey declared, standing proud as he whipped out his needle-blade, Pluto dipping his head low as he growled menacingly.

“I'm not a samurai! So retreat I shall!” But the attempt was thwarted when the horse began to buck heavily in a desperate plot to rid itself of its unwanted riders, and the smallest beagle went flying and smacked into Marsupilami's head. Both of them hit the ground, but the bitty beagle was first to his feet.

“Nobody moves!” The smallest of the four Oni declared, smashing his fist into an empty palm, as if he hadn't just been through an embarrassing ordeal and could still pull off being intimidating. “This is a robbery!”

“This is a headache.” Marsupilami groaned, needing Maurice to pick him up.

“Are you sure about this, Bigtime?” asked the second Oni on the horse, poking his head over his brother's shoulder. “They don't look like they've got anything valuable on 'em. Just a little boy and his pets.” Maurice snickered about Marsupilami being deemed a pet, and Marsupilami himself considered using his long tail as a noose.

“C'mon, brothers, we're on a robbery high!” Bigtime, the smallest it seemed, implored. “We managed to get that horse with no sweat!”

“Isn't that 'cause the guy we stole it from was asleep?” asked the third Oni on the horse. 

“It still counts! Burger, Bankjob, Bouncer, help me round them up! We'll steal from them until there's nothing left!” Bigtime then swung his fist forward, and Marsupilami barely dodged in time – but in a frantic effort to run away, he wound up tripping over his own tail and getting caught up in it.

Bouncer and Bankjob jumped off the horse to join the fray – Maurice lifted his arms to clobber Bouncer with his fists clenched tightly together, but Bouncer head-butted his stomach hard enough to send the giant gorilla wheezing. Bankjob lifted Pluto up by his tail, and was rewarded with a huge sharp bite to his forearm. He howled and dropped the pup, and Mickey leaped from Pluto's head, running up Bankjob's arm, sword at the ready – but unsure where to cut, and now with Marsupilami's doubting words in his heads, how to even move. “Get away from my friends, you-”

Bankjob merely flicked his finger at Mickey, and Mickey yelped as he soared off Bankjob's arm. Maurice caught him in his hands, and Mickey uttered a winded “Thanks, pal.” Now they were surrounded by the Oni all around, with no means of escape, at least not without a violent end. Mickey stood up in Maurice's palms, aching but still determined, both hands on the sewing needle. “I'm not giving up without a fight! There has to be something we can do!”

Bigtime laughed wickedly, taking sadistic pleasure in Mickey's hopes. “Types like you are a real riot, little boy! You think just saying 'I won't give up' is going to earn you any favors in this world?”

“It earned _my_ favor.”

“Shut up, Bankjob!”

Bankjob temporarily stopped his menacing. “I didn't say anything, Bigtime.”

“Me neither,” said Bouncer.

“Wasn't me,” Burger shrugged atop the horse.

That left the sudden stranger standing in the midst of all the Beagles – which startled them so much they all jumped in different directions. Everyone had been so absorbed in the clobber-fest that they hadn't noticed the skinny young man who had casually strolled up on the road, watching the mess unfold. He lifted his wide-brimmed circular straw hat, revealing a smiling red rooster who waved cheerfully at those he just surprised. His plainclothes were dusty with faint traces of mud, but what stood out to Mickey was the long, dark scabbard hanging loosely off his belt – and the elegant handle sticking out, a thick ivory design that teased the presence of a unique blade.

“Hey, isn't that the guy we stole this horse from?” Burger asked, tilting his head so he could see better – and falling off the horse completely. 

“Correct you are,” said the stranger, tilting his hat courteously. “There I was, taking a rest from my endless and weary journey, only to find my dear Martinez vanished. I was very concerned I would never see my partner again, but not ten miles did I find you all hear making all this noise. You have my thanks for not adding more unnecessary miles to my journey.”

“You're welcome,” said Burger, which earned him a slap upside the head from all three of his brothers.

“I was thinking of merely taking my horse and resuming my quest,” said the stranger, fingers beginning to tap on the hilt of his sword. “But to hear such fierce determination in the face of danger... I was inspired! Why, a boy like him is someone we should all strive to be.”

“And you're gunna strive to be beaten if you don't stop with all that fancy yammering!” Bigtime barked, pointing directly at the rooster. “Bang his beak shut, bros!”

Mickey was horrified! “Hey, three against one?! That's not fair!” he tried to run forward to lend his assistance - 

Only to find it unnecessary. The rooster stepped forward once, and then pulled out his sword so quickly that the hilt slammed into Bouncer's jaw, toppling him backwards. In another step, one swipe of his blade had laid a heavy gash across Bankjob's chest – not enough to cause an eruption of blood, but more than enough to make him keel over in pain, clutching himself. Bouncer held his swollen mouth, and with his free fist, moved with Burger to try and pummel the newcomer – not once did the rooster stop smiling as he leaned back and forth, dodging the punches in time so that the two beagles wound up knocking each other out.

All of this took less than thirty seconds, and the rooster had even begun to hum quietly, as if he was out for a pleasant walk. Bigtime gawked at how easily his brothers were taken down. “You... Okay, I didn't want to do this – mostly because I didn't realize I'd need it as an option – but you asked for it!” he reached into his robes and pulled out a farmer's sickle, no doubt another petty theft reward. “I'll cut you in half, then thirds, then... whatever comes after the number three!”

“Four,” the rooster answered, “Which, by happy coincidence, is how many footsteps I will need to take for this to be over.” He then held his sword in both hands, and used his left foot to move ahead. “One...”

Bigtime ran forward, brandishing his makeshift weapon with a mighty roar - “Two.” the rooster stepped to his right, and the sword cut into the Oni's left hand, “Three,” now he stepped to his left, making the same mark on the right hand, with both cuts so painful that Bigtime dropped the sickle - “Four!” Bigtime covered his face with his hands, expecting his nose to be sliced off – and didn't expect that the fourth step was a huge kick between the thighs. Mickey and his friends winced in slight sympathy as the last Beagle collapsed, joining his brothers in a pile of defeat.

Mickey was in awe, his eyes glittering like new starlight. “That...that was amazing!” It was the first time he'd seen real skilled swordplay in front of his very own eyes, instead of relayed in stories past. The real thing was much more exciting, much more breathtaking, much more inspiring! His heart was beating wildly, and he jumped off of Maurice's hands to take his usual place atop Pluto. “You took them out without breaking a sweat! We're in your debt, sir!”

“Keep in mind,” Marsupilami added, having mostly been faking how tied up he was so he could keep out of danger, “That if we didn't have anything for them to steal for us, we certainly don't have anything to repay you with.”

The rooster cocked his head, and then laughed high and loud, returning his sword to his scabbard. “Ah, what an interesting group I've come across today! I need no thanks, for I consider it part of my training! Instead, I wish to thank you. Had they not run into you, they might have gotten away with Martinez.” He fondly stroked his horse's man, and the horse whinnied its thanks as well. The rooster then cleared his throat, and made a grand, sweeping bow so low he almost knocked off his hat. “I am Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González the Third.”

Marsupilami snorted, and then whispered a joke to Maurice, “If we keep getting buddies with longer and longer names, the next guy will have one that lasts to the next page.” He then drew himself up, wanting his introduction next. “I am - HAVING MY PRIVATE SPACE INVADED!”

Panchito had, without any warning or hint, gone right up to Marsupilami and given him a yank on his tail in order to twirl him around – as he did this, he took out a single green feather from within his robes, and declared, “Not him.” He then dropped the dizzy monkey man and proceeded to spin Maurice around with one mighty push, doing the same check-over. “Not him either.” Pluto backed up, not wanting to be made into a pirouetting pup, but when Panchito looked him and Mickey over, he merely shook his head. “And both of you are two small to have been him.”

Didn't that just raise millions of questions? “Him?” Mickey asked, while Maurice and Marsupilami leaned on each other for support. “Who's him? And what are you checking us for?”

Panchito sighed, twirling the thin green feather in his hands. “That is a long and shameful story, my friend.”

“But you'll power through and tell us anyway,” Marsupilami deadpanned as he tried to keep his stomach's insides where they belonged.

“In my homeland,” Panchito began, “My family owns a dojo that spans back many years. Decade after decade, we trained the finest fighters, and the most skilled swordsmen. I am the heir to the dojo, but in my youth, I arrogantly believed this made me better than everyone else – that I was born to be better! Instead of teaching new students as I was supposed to, I challenged them in battle constantly, and mocked them when they lost. My pride was so great that I tried to challenge everyone who even so much as glanced in my direction. I believed no one could ever defeat me, and because of that, I had the right to bully everyone. If someone didn't like my attitude, I could always defeat them with one twist of my sword. I was an arrogant tyrant, one who fed off glory...then, several years ago, the Oni came to our village.”

“We were one of the earliest villages to be attacked when the new Oni King took his throne. But the Oni that came to our village said we could live in peace, so long as we surrendered to them. I saw an opportunity for a fight, and I challenged them, ignoring the pleas of my people. I cared more for my bloodlust than their safety, and... I got my tail handed to me. Several times. I kept getting up, and they kept putting me down. I refused to surrender, even when my bones were broken and my eyes were blinded by blood and dust. The Oni grew angry at my insistence, and even though they had offered peace, they decided I was worth the kill. My people must have thought the same, and I cannot blame them – not one of them came to my aide, perhaps thinking that if I was gone, so would all the troubles I brought.”

“Just when it seemed like I was done for... one lone samurai took down the Oni that had me by the throat. No one knew who he was, or where he came from. The Oni demanded to know why he was helping me, when he didn't even belong to the village. All he said was... 'When I see a nice face in trouble, I can't help myself.' Then, without another word, he took down each Oni, one by one, until they ran for the hills and left our village alone. I was blown away – saving my life, a complete stranger, all for one silly reason? At first, instead of feeling grateful, I was insulted. I could barely see him, but I still made a swipe for him, and I said... 'You have no idea who I am! I don't need your help or your pity! Why did you think me worth saving'? And while I couldn't make out his face... I somehow knew he was smiling when he replied...”

_If that's how you feel, why don't you make yourself a life worth saving?_

Panchito inhaled deeply, then exhaled just as strongly. “That one sentence...completely changed me. What was my life worth? Had it any value or meaning? Being the strongest was no meaning at all... you grow weak when you are old, and you will always find someone who can use their strength better than you can. So there I was, without point or purpose. Why bother waking up in the morning or letting myself breathe the same air as everyone else? Thus, within that moment, I resolved to do just as he said...I would make myself a life worth saving – by repaying him for saving it! I vowed to follow him to the ends of the earth to be his loyal follower, his steadfast attendant, and show him proper gratitude for saving my life. Because of that battle, I don't know what he looks like, or even his name...all I have is this single feather.”

“And you couldn't tell with one look we weren't a match?” Marsupilami huffed. “Are you just that desperate or just that dumb?”

As usual, Marsupilami went ignored. “And when I find him, I will declare... 'Sir! I am Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González the Third!'” He banged once on his chest, back straight and proud, face serious and fiery! “I have come to you to learn your ways and repay my debt! If it takes me the rest of my life, I will obey your every command, and make sure your fight was not in vain! Do me the honor of becoming my _sensei!_ ” Then, with one breath, Panchito relapsed into his carefree attitude, and turned around. “Well, goodbye.”

“Goodbye?!” Mickey repeated in shock, urging Pluto to go after him. “After all that, goodbye?”

“Did I not just explain my quest?” Panchito asked as he took a hold of Martinez' reins. “Nice as you all are, I can't abandon my journey any longer for chitchat.”

“But I could really use your help!” Mickey implored, hopping off of Pluto's head to climb up Panchito's arm. “I want to be a samurai just like my father, a noble warrior who can protect anyone! I'm headed to the capitol so I can use the Lucky Hammer and become normal-sized, but that won't mean squat if I still can't use a sword! Someone like you could teach me a whole lot!”

Panchito raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not wholly sold just yet. “I never managed to teach anyone at the dojo...and I'm not sure how I could begin training someone with your... unusual problem.”

“I'm beggin' you!” Mickey pleaded, now at Panchito's shoulders, his hands together tightly. “I want to help people, and make my father proud! I can't do either as I am! I'll do anything if it means I can make my own life have worth too!”

Panchito cupped his beak, mulling it over back and forth, but considering the smile he was wearing, it was clear he'd long since made his choice. “Hmmm... The capitol is one of the places I haven't searched yet. Very well! We shall combine our goals... you, what is your name?”

Mickey bowed deeply, making sure to keep his balance so he wouldn't fall off Panchito's shoulder. “I'm Mickey! These are my friends, Pluto, Marsupilami and Maurice! We're on a quest of our own, to get the Lucky Hammer so I can become a normal-sized person and bring honor to my family!”

“I'd say they've got plenty to start with, given they have such a courageous young man!” Panchito climbed atop his horse, growing more excited with every passing second. “Then from this day onward, small Mickey, you will be my _kouhai_ , and I will be your _senpai_! I'll teach you everything I know, and we will have a bond stronger than our steel swords! You have my loyalty until end of time! Onward!” he declared, though he only gave his horse a gentle nudging for a slow walk, “To the capitol, where you take destiny with your own two hands!”

“Sheesh,” Marsupilami muttered as he, Pluto and Maurice followed along. “If this guy could lay it on any thicker, we'd be drowning.” But he had to concede since Mickey now had a proper teacher, he had less to complain about in the way of goals. Maybe Mickey's steadfast confidence was rubbing off on him, little by little – not that Mickey could do anything big by big. 

With the new companion keen to show Mickey the ins and outs of the blade, the expanded group continued forth to the capitol. Mickey took every lesson Panchito gave to heart, and practiced every single second he could, even when his body begged for a break. For the sake of his family who were trapped under the Oni's rule, and for his father who refused to acknowledge him, Mickey pushed past every pain and every ache, and though he felt no stronger for it, his determination grew more and more with every passing day.

No matter what it took, he would give his life meaning, and make his father grateful he had such a son. Why, it soon came to be that Mickey felt he would take on the Oni King himself, if that would earn Donald's favor.

Of course, like any sane person, he hoped it _wouldn't_ actually come to that.

~*~

Nor was the Oni King eager for any dramatic confrontation anytime soon, not that he had any idea it was coming. He was far too focused on his own goals, and while he still had yet to locate the treasure he was seeking, he was sure it was only a matter of time. Patience was a difficult thing to master, yet he knew he had no choice but to command it. Still, if he could find a way to skip all the hard work and just cheat to get what he wanted, he would've grabbed that choice – like how he “cheated” to get the throne by offing off the former Oni King and his family.

He would have thought the same blood and scares would work on the mortals, especially the Emperor and the Princess, but who would've thought they were made of sterner stuff, and not so easily frightened? He didn't understand it, and he decided that when all of Japan was his to control, the Princess would be made to suffer the most, if only because she was such an annoyance, just like her father. Thinking of her now, in the dead of night, as he stood atop a rooftop and watched the sky, his blood boiled and he gnashed his teeth. Insipid brat! Who did she think she was, openly defying him?

Being “strong for her people”, bah! If she had any grain of intelligence, she'd save her own skin and hand over the Lucky Hammer. But no, she had to be just like the last Oni King... with that arrogant expression, that refusal to back down in the face of someone superior... No wonder he hated her so much. If things kept up this way, she'd meet the same fate, and he'd be glad to give it to her, even for all her lovely looks. It was the destiny of the weak to be ruled by the strong. Therefore, ruling all of Japan – and perhaps even what lay beyond – was his right.

While it was nice to fantasize about the future, he had to focus on the present, and the full moon allowed him to see what he was looking for. The numbers weren't growing as fast as he'd like, but it was better than nothing. He had to bide his time, until the Lucky Hammer was in his hands. Until then, his men would do all the hard work in conquering and capturing – why should the King have to do everything? They should be grateful he wasn't stomping on their heads and ripping them apart. Serving him was an honor.

Counting all the signals would take all night, but he didn't need to sleep much. In the hours of day, he could try to get away with a nap or two. Maybe then he'd think of a brilliant idea of how to get the Lucky Hammer. But until that new idea came up, he had to force himself to settle with his current one...

… becoming the Princess' husband.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey finally reaches the capital, but he finds more surprises waiting for him and his friends than he ever expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> Used an old storybit here, tweaked it up. Also put in a pairing I technically haven't written for before, but I plan to enjoy it to the fullest.

It took several long days and nights to reach the capital, with Mickey learning all he could from Panchito during every waking hour. While Panchito was very enthusiastic about having a student, the lessons were limited – without an opponent Mickey's size, they couldn't truly measure Mickey's abilities. Yet neither of them said this out loud (and Maurice smacked Marsupilami every time he tried to bring it up) and the training was met with vigorous determination. At the very least he could feel his stamina building and some small muscles beginning to grow – it felt amazing to get real exercise after years of being cooped up in his house and treated like he couldn't do a thing.

Even as they reached the large, red, imposing gates of the capitol, Mickey was still training, doing stretching exercises as he stood on Panchito's saddle. Numerous soldiers and guards were at the gate, and only when they inspected each person's head to make sure there were no Oni horns did they allow the group to pass – and that was only after Panchito gave _them_ an inspection for any green feathers, which would have annoyed the guards if Mickey's incredibly small size hadn't thrown them for several loops.

“Boy oh boy!” Mickey said once they made it past the gate. “Would you look at all the people?” Even though he'd been secluded for most of his life and expected the capital to be a shock to his senses, the sheer number of people going to and fro among all the hefty buildings was still a real surprise. It was jam-packed, and some had make an effort to squeeze around a corner – though a few stopped in place, doing various double-takes when they thought they saw a peach pit-sized person on a passing horse.

“Seems like everyone's coming to the capital for protection,” Marsupilami mused, cupping his chin with his tail, “since it's one of the few places the Oni have been driven back. If it keeps up, the entire capital will be full of everyone from Japan. That means less food and roofs for everyone here, and it'll drive the people nuts. Stuff enough rats in a tiny cage, and they'll eat each other alive. The Oni still win.”

“Must you be so morbid, my friend?” Panchito tilted his hat up to get a better view of their surroundings. “One day, the Oni King will be defeated, and we can all rest easy again. Until then, we must keep sight of our current goals! Young Mickey will get the Lucky Hammer, and I will meet the man who saved me, and I will say to him...”

“Sir, I am Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González the Third.” Mickey automatically cut him off. “I have come to you to learn your ways and repay my debt.”

“If it takes me the rest of my life, I will obey your every command, and make sure your fight was not in vain. Do me the honor of becoming my _sensei_.” Marsupilami finished, with he, Maurice, Mickey and Pluto all mimicking the wide and expressive gestures Panchito was prone to making.

Panchito blinked slowly. “Have I mentioned this before?”

“Only about fifty times every day since we met, but who's counting?” Marsupilami replied sarcastically, having been convinced from day one that Panchito was more trouble than he was worth as a teacher. “I couldn't care less about that green hero of yours, but we need to think about how Mickey's going to get that hammer in the first place.”

Mickey climbed up the horse's hair to sit on its head and look at the tall, imposing tower where the Princess lived. The tower was surrounded by a thick, wooden gate at all sides, with several trees growing along outside. Some of the trees on the outside were so tall that they leaned over the gate, providing shade to the inside. At the front of the gate were two guards – one tall and lanky, the other pudgy and snapping to his comrade about whose shift was next. “Why can't I just go on over and ask them to let me in? Look at me, I'm in a very unique position.”

“No, no, no!” Panchito shook his head hard, pulling the reins to a stop. “We cannot do such a thing!”

“Why?” Marsupilami deadpanned again, sensing a disaster oncoming. “Because it's simple, and you want to do something needlessly complicated?”

Panchito ignored him as usual as he began to climb down. “If you want the Princess to truly understand your plight, you must make a good first impression! Show her how determined and brave you are, that you will let nothing stand in your way! Once she sees how courageous and resilient you are, she'll understand right away you must be given the right size! Do something that no one else can do!”

Mickey liked the sound of it – if the Princess' heart was truly as stony and steely as he'd been told, he'd have to think outside the box to win her compassion. What could he do that no one else could? He looked at the tower, at the gates, at the trees – and he snapped his fingers. “I've got it! With my size, climbing into the palace gardens will be a snap! From there, I can get into the tower with ease! She'll see how serious I am, and only I can do it! Any other person would be caught with just one look!”

“You want to impress her by _breaking into her house?_ ” Marsupilami felt as if he was the only person around with a functioning brain.

This feeling was amplified when Panchito laughed merrily, hands on his hips. “Marvelous, yes, marvelous! And we'll help you do it! We'll distract the guards!”

“The _heck_ we will!”

Panchito pulled his horse over to the clearest tree, with Marsupilami ranting and raving about a plan he refused to be a part in yet knowing he'd be dragged into, and Maurice and Pluto happily waved their friend a temporary goodbye. “You guys sure you'll be all right?” Mickey probably should have asked that before he started climbing the massive tree, but thinking ahead wasn't one of his strong points. He'd only made it up a few inches, and it was going to take some time before he made it all the way up and over the castle walls. Even if he wasn't the size of a peach pit, this would be a long, daunting task. But distracting guards could also be daunting, and there wasn't a hint of hesitation on any of his companion's faces – save for Marsupilami.

“Just leave it to us!” Panchito saluted, with Pluto and Maurice copying the motion. “We'll take all the time you need in order to convince the princess to give you the Lucky Hammer! Even if it takes all day and night!”

“Or at least until dinner,” Marsupilami added, his reluctant salute having a smidgen less enthusiasm to it.

“I've already got a plan!” Panchito continued on as if he hadn't heard his companion. “Marsupilami, Maurice and I shall pretend to be fighting over who Pluto belongs to! We'll cause a ruckus like the kingdom's never seen before! Now go forth, Mickey! And fulfill your destiny!” Eager to aide his friend and even more eager to cause some action, the energetic rooster was leaping heaps and bounds towards the castle entrance.

“Good luck, Mickey...I feel you're gunna need it,” Marsupilami said with a sigh, giving a wave before he left with Pluto and Maurice, leaving Mickey all on his own to climb the tree. As he watched them begin their bizarre performance, Mickey couldn't help but smile as he resumed his ascension. He felt very lucky to have some loyal and generous friends, and hoped someday he could return all of their kindness. He didn't know how he would, but surely that would come to mind one he was normal-sized. Yes, when he was no longer the size of a peach pit, everything would come easy to him and life would be grand.

It was this one goal that fought through exhaustion as he rose higher and higher on the tree, sweat pouring down his black fur. He wouldn't allow himself to rest, not even for a second, and in time he was rewarded with a view of the castle's interior gardens. Since the branches of the tree only dangled over the wall, there was no way to climb down where he wanted. Luckily he spotted a small pond right beneath him, surrounded by gray rocks. Mickey held his breath and jumped – making the tiniest splash imaginable.

Several of the orange and red koi within the pond were greatly startled, unsure if this was a meal or an attacker. Their confusion allowed Mickey to swiftly swim to the surface and climb out, coughing beneath his hand. Now that he was on solid ground again, he was in another pickle – the grass was tall, so tall that he couldn't see where he was going! He'd have to guess which direction the castle was in. Not that he'd let a silly thing like getting lost stop him. Once he squeezed his robes and his tail dry, he decided the best way forward was in fact going forward.

Fortune smiled upon him, as within seconds he heard two female voices.

“Did you hear that, Princess? I could've sworn I heard something in the pond.” An older woman who stretched out her vowels, a bell clanging every time she spoke.

“It was probably just the koi playing.” Smaller and more feminine, a dainty melody that was gently reprimanding her elder. “You're far too paranoid, Clarabelle. You just want me to go back inside. Can't I at least see my own garden once in a while?”

“Not while the Oni King is out and about! We don't know when or where he'll show up!”

The princess was only a few feet ahead! Maybe the gods were finally giving Mickey a break! He smoothed down his clothes, unsure how to exactly present himself in front of royalty. It wasn't something his mother had taught him, as no one in the family ever thought they'd meet someone so important. With his chest puffed out, he pushed aside the blades of grass ahead of him. The princess was sitting in a clearing where the grass was much shorter, allowing Mickey to get the full view of her.

And that's when Mickey's mind became absolute mush.

He had heard rumors of Princess Minnie's divine beauty, but they sure didn't hold a candle to the real deal! She was a petite figure, with endless black hair rolling at her sides, dark as the purest night, although an attempt at a pink-ribbon bow to control some of it had been made. Since she wasn't in the public eye, her face was free of make-up, though Mickey wouldn't have guessed it. How could such luscious red lips be natural? How could she simply be born with those soft pink cheeks? Then again if anyone took a look at those alluring eyes of hers they might not have any inclination to look at her face – after all, once you saw those stunning blue diamonds, how could possibly look at anything else?

Clothes weren't something of particular importance to Mickey, save for his own due to his height. Yet here he was, admiring the pink kimono with flowers that seemed to flutter with every sigh the princess gave. It was so long and intricate that he couldn't tell where her hands were right away until he spotted the illustrated book she was holding. She was sitting on her knees, a thick blanket spread out underneath her, and she was surrounded by more and more books, all the same size, along with a few sweets and cups of tea. Yet those lay untouched, her appetite spoiled by Clarabelle's constant worrying.

Not that he could hear the two of them lightly arguing. In fact, the entire world had gone deaf in Mickey's ears, and he completely forgot about why he was in the garden in the first place. He probably could stayed in that same spot and watched this enchanting royal, with his mouth in a stupefied smile and his body hanging lopsided oblivious to the world around him. But despite his lovestruck stupor, the world continued to move around him, and Mickey only realized this when a shadow fell over him – Clarabelle's foot, unknowingly about to step on him.

“HEY HEY HEY! Watch it!” Mickey ran out into the clearing, managing to miss death by a millisecond. The females momentarily froze – before Clarabelle let out a scream.

“It's a bug! Ew, ew, ew!” The servant was wearing a yellow kimono of far less expense, a cowbell strung around her neck. She grabbed her robe, trying to avoid the touch of the “bug”.

“Wait... Either this bug knows his vocabulary,” Minnie said, slowly placing her book aside after very carefully putting in a pink paper bookmark to recall her place, and leaning down to inspect the newcomer with big wide eyes. “Or it's not a bug at all...Oh my goodness! It's a person! It's a very little person!”

So much for a grand entrance. Mickey cleared his throat, standing as tall as he could, daring to look Minnie right in the eyes – though given such lovely eyes she had, this was a difficult task. “I-I...I am Mickey, and I am here for the Lucky Hammer!”

“A-ha!” Clarabelle got over her fright easily enough, now rolling up her sleeves in anger. “He's working for the Oni King! Don't you worry, princess, I'll get rid of him!”

Wow, this was going much worse than he'd planned – not that he had planned for much. “W-what?! No I'm not!” Indignant, he stomped his foot, demanding to be heard. “I just wanna get taller, that's all! Can you blame me?”

“You can't trust him, Princess! I bet it's a trick! I bet he's here to kidnap you and take you the Oni King!”

Minnie slowly turned her head to give Clarabelle a look of deep skepticism. “And how, exactly, would someone this small kidnap me?” This finally seemed to shut Clarabelle up, at least for the moment. As the cow mulled over what she thought Mickey's true goal was, Minnie faced Mickey again, a warm smile gracing her delicate features. “I apologize for my handmaiden. She tends to think the worst of everyone.” She bowed her head low in retribution, which made Clarabelle's fit even worse – Minnie was supposed to have a certain cold, hard image in front of everyone. Why was she suddenly acting like her normal self? Hesitantly, her eyes wandered to the books. Oh, she hoped she was wrong about her reasons.

Mickey felt oddly humbled, and he toed his foot in the ground. “Aw, um, it's all right! Really! I bet everyone's kinda tense what with the Oni King's doings.” He pounded a fist to his chest, determined to convince them both of his somewhat noble intentions. “I swear on all my ancestors, he's no friend of mine! He's just a big bully, and bullies are the worst type of folks! Why, if I ever saw him, you know what'd I do?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Clarabelle muttered, rolling her eyes.

Mickey yanked out his trusty sword – his mother's sewing needle – and wielded it this way and that. “I might be small, but I don't let nobody get picked on! I'd give him what for! Show him a thing or two!”

Minnie giggled quietly, hiding her mouth behind one of her extra-long sleeves. “It warms my heart to know that there are such brave people in my kingdom. I know that one day, because of people like you, he will definitely be defeated.” Once Mickey had returned the sword to his handmade scabbard, she placed her hands in front of him. “You said your name was Mickey? I am Princess Minnie, and this is my handmaiden Clarabelle. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir Mickey.” This came with another proper bow, and Clarabelle reluctantly did the same.

“Nice ta meetcha too.” Mickey chirped, feeling his anxiety lessen with every passing second. For a royal figure, this lady was rather nice. Combine that with her ravishing looks, and no wonder she was rumored to have a thousand suitors vying for her hand. Once Mickey was of normal height, perhaps he could be one thousand and one. He cleared his throat to try and chase that thought away. “I've traveled far and wide, across the scorching heat and cruel forests, all the way from my homeland to come and see you.” Wait. “Well, not you, particularly.” Dang it. “I mean, not that it wouldn't be nice to see you, it's very nice, nicest thing I've ever seen.” The anxiety came back in full swing. “...Can I start over?”

Another round of giggles came from the princess. “Here, let me see if I can help. I've always found it better when people can talk eye to eye.” She opened her hands, laying them flat with her palms up. Mickey hesitated, reluctant to dirty her hands with his muddy, wet sandals. He slowly walked onto her hands, and she felt him up to her face – wow, she even smelled nice. He was a goner. “Now then. How can I help you, dear sir Mickey?” Clarabelle, meanwhile, had picked up one of the books and was flipping around to find a certain page. 

She called him dear – FOCUS. “Um! I, uh, that is...” Another hard shake of the head. “Ever since I was born, I haven't grown a single inch! Betcha it's not gunna take long for you to imagine how hard that makes my life. My own father won't acknowledge me as his son. But I heard tale of your family's most prized possession – the Lucky Hammer that can turn anyone and anything into any size at all! I just need to borrow it so I can be a real man.”

Clarabelle huffed and snorted throughout the story, trying to find a way to disprove it but coming up blank. As for the princess, her smile now turned into a sympathetic frown, her shoulders lowering. “I see...I am sorry for what tragedies may have befallen you, but I'm afraid I can't just hand over the Lucky Hammer.”

“W-well! I'm not sayin' you just gotta give it to me, I only gotta borrow it!” Mickey pleaded, his squeaky voice ringing with desperation.

Minnie sadly shook her head. “Please understand...on my father's deathbed, he made me vow a very important promise about the Lucky Hammer. I swore to keep it, and nothing and no one can break it. I must think of my people, you understand.”

Mickey bit hard on his lower lip. He too knew the power of promises – after all, he'd promised not to return home until he was no longer the size of a peach pit. But to have the hammer so close and yet so far was unfair. With each depressing fact, Mickey's body wilted more and more, and Minnie's guilt rose and rose. “Oh, Mickey...I really am sorry. I'd hate for you to come all this way for nothing...” She gradually began to rise to her feet, making sure Mickey wouldn't fall over in her hands. “Why don't you stay in the castle tonight?”

“Absolutely not!” Clarabelle interjected with balled fists. “He's an intruder!”

“But it would be terribly rude to send him back after he's traveled so far!” Minnie whined, already turning to the castle doors. “Besides, if I welcome him, he's no longer an intruder. Now he's my honored guest.”

“Oooh – Princess, one of these days, your good intentions are going to get us all killed!”

She had spunk, Mickey had to admire her for that. And it's not like she was a bad person – she just had her own duties to fulfill. Mickey wanted to be mad at her, but honestly couldn't. “Well, your highness, long as you're offerin'...my pals traveled with me. Can they stay over too?”

“Of course!” But now that gave Minnie paused as she began to look around for any other small visitors.

Mickey stifled a laugh. “They're outside, and they're regular sized! There's my dog Pluto, most loyal pup you'll ever meet. Then there's Marsupilami, smarter than ten men put together, and his best and strongest pal, Maurice. And then you got Panchito Pistoles...his real name is longer than most men's put together! You couldn't ask for better friends.”

“Now you've got me eager to meet them, sir Mickey.” With a bemused smile, she lifted her hands to her left shoulder, allowing Mickey to sit there instead. “I've been cooped up in my castle for so long that I've become bored to tears. I would love to hear about all the grand adventures you and your traveling companions have been through.”

“Then you're in luck, 'cause we've got tons of 'em!”

But before Mickey could get out one single adventure, one of Minnie's guards had rushed out to meet them. “Princess! There's a big fight going on, right outside of the palace gates!”

Within seconds, Minnie's face took on the serious, hard-laced appearance she'd been known for, and Mickey was so startled at the transformation he almost thought Minnie had been switched with someone else when his backed was turned. “Are the Oni attacking?”

“Oh, no,” said the guard, quite casual about all of this, “It's just really funny.” The guard then stopped, adjusting his helmet so he could get a better look at what was on the Princess' shoulder – doing so allowed Mickey to spot a hint of green feathers, and he wondered if his luck had returned. “Do my eyes deceive me, Princess, or is that a very tiny person on your shoulder?”

“Quick, you gotta meet my friends!” Mickey ran down Minnie's arm, using her hand to swing back so he could fly forward – the entertained guard held out his hands to catch him.. “I wanna check something out. They're... well, they're the ones causing a ruckus. Let's go!”

This particular guard was so lackadaisical that he really saw no problem with this, lifting his hand so Mickey could stand on his shoulder. “You know what? Why not! Today just keeps getting more and more entertaining!” With a chuckle, he headed for the front entrance, Mickey along for the ride.

Minnie was about to join them when Clarabelle reached out and yanked Minnie by the shoulder. “Hold it right there, missy. Don't think I don't know what's going on?”

With her serious act on, Minnie didn't face Clarabelle at all. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“A-huh. So you didn't just invite a total stranger to stay the night...” Clarabelle shoved the offending pages right into Minnie's face. “...because he's a dead ringer for Sir Sakura?”

Mickey had no idea how much he coincidentally resembled the illustrated hero, save for some exaggerated eye sparkles, long flowing hair, and the ability to cause flower petals to rain down upon him whenever he spoke. Aside from this, he could have been Sir Sakura come to life – not that Minnie was going to admit it. “Is he? How remarkable. I hadn't noticed at all.” Yet even when Clarabelle pulled the pages away, she still refused to look at her handmaiden's face. “Come now, we mustn't keep my guests waiting.”

“He's not Sir Sakura!” Clarabelle groaned, following after Minnie. “None of that book is going to come to life! Princess, life is not like a manga! There is no big love at first sight meeting with cherry blossoms everywhere while some handsome hero introduces himself in slow-motion!”

Outside, the fake fight had certainly become real for Marsupilami, who was being chased in circles by Panchito, Maurice, Pluto, and now the two outside guards, who had caught gotten up in the mess. The guard with green feathers, Minnie, Clarabelle and Mickey watched for a minute or two before Mickey stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a high-pitched whistle. “We're good, guys!”

Marsupilami stopped in place – which allowed the five before him to crash land into him with several THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUDs. Mickey cleared his throat, a little embarrassed at the fuss they'd all made. “Whoops. Sorry about that. See, Princess, those guys are my pals! I wouldn't have made it here to the palace without them. Marsupilami, Maurice, Pluto, Panchito, we got some real royalty here! It's the Princess! And she's even allowing us to stay the night!”

“Remind me what the purpose of this was, again?” Marsupilami asked with his face in the ground, leaving the other three to get up, brush themselves off, and bow with the deepest of grace, as if everything was perfectly normal. “Ah, yes, I see, the purpose was to remind us all that my life is just comic relief. Good to know. Don't help me up or anything.”

“Honored guests, eh?” The green-feathered guard repeated, amused. “Well then, we should all introduce ourselves as well! Aside from her royal highness, we have her lady-in-waiting, Clarabelle bow, and the men you just played with, Goofy and Pete!”

“Nice ta meetcha!” Goofy said, thinking that his concussion was the reason he saw a very tiny person on his fellow guardman's shoulder.

Pete sputtered at this same sight, pointing at Mickey with a shaking finger. “What are _you_ – I mean, what _are_ you? Is anyone else seeing this? I – YIPE!” Panchito, having no longer needed to put up a fake fight, began inspecting the guards for his real reasons, holding up the green feather, and this included giving Pete a good spin.

“Wait, wait, Panchito!” Mickey called out, hoping to stop his friend before Goofy got his turn. “This guy here has green feathers! And you don't have to turn him upside down to do it!” To make doubley sure, he turned to the guard, lightly rapping on his helmet. “Sir, do you remember saving a young rooster from some awful Oni several years ago?”

The guard raised his eyebrows, then cupped his beak, thinking. “It does sound familiar... I was a very young man myself back then! The castle had sent me out to help out certain villages, but I took so long getting back because I never could refuse a nice face in help. And... hmmm... yes, yes, I do believe there was one handsome fellow who actually argued about being saved...”

Panchito abruptly dropped Pete, his eyes widening, and he raced on over. “Is it me? I'm sure it was me! You must be the person I've been searching for!”

The guard hesitated, then held up his hands. “Hang on. With this silly helmet on, I swear I can barely see a thing. One moment!” It took him a few tries, as the darn thing was stuck rather tight, and when he finally yanked it off, it went flying, smacking into a nearby cherry blossom tree, causing the petals to swirl and sprinkle all around him. “There, that's much better.” He then shook his head, causing his feathers to flutter about, before fully finally facing Panchito. “My name is Jose Carioca, loyal retainer and guard to her highness, Princess Minnie. And you are?”

Mickey gestured outward with his palms, ready for Panchito to delve into his speech... except it didn't come. “Panchito? … Panchito, your speech!” 

Panchito stared at Jose, mouth open but not a single word coming out. Because his feathers were already a very rich red, no one could tell he'd begun to blush, and heavily so. His fingers jerked in odd, twitchy motions, and when Maurice came over to poke his face, he didn't acknowledge it. “I... uh... ah... eh... um...?”

Marsupilami got up, brushing the last bits of mud off his tail. “Okay, if he's not going to say it, I will, and maybe I'll finally get it out of my head! His name is Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González the Third, and he has come to learn your ways and repay his debt!”

“Uh,” said Panchito.

Mickey decided he might as well help out. “If it takes him the rest of his life, he will obey your every command and make sure your fight was not in vain!”

“Uh,” said Panchito again.

“Do him the honor of becoming his _sensei_!” Marsupilami topped it off, with him, Maurice, and Pluto, getting on their knees and waving their jazz hands to make sure the show had all the pizzazz it needed. 

Jose wasn't really sure what to make of all this, but boy it was entertaining, much more so than the fight! He chuckled quietly, then reached out, offering his hand to Panchito. “Well now, how can I possibly turn down such a generous offer? You seem like you've really become a soul worth saving! I am very happy to meet you again.”

Hand met hand, and Panchito's eyes rolled back into his head, and he went down like a sack of lead.

Jose, Minnie and Clarabelle looked to Mickey, since he supposedly had the answers to all of his friend's nonsense, but Mickey was just as stumped. He had no idea what happened to his teacher, but he put on a brave, albeit nervous grin. They had, at the very least, succeeded in getting to the capital and meeting the princess! Now all he needed to was get the Lucky Hammer! And to do that, he needed to be as determined as his friends, exactly like Panchito!

Marsupilami began to tie up Panchito with his tail in order to carry him. “Is there such a thing as a happy coma, because I think that's what he's got.”

…. Maybe not exactly like Panchito.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Lucky Hammer closer yet further out of his reach, Mickey decides to take on this challenge with the family way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> Not much to say here, so I'll wish you all a happy summer!

Mickey and his traveling companions would have loved to stop and gawk at the impressive interior of the palace, but they didn't come here to sight-see. (That and they had an unconscious rooster to carry.) They were taken to an elaborate guest room that could have fit twenty, but also didn't appear to have been used in ages, judging from a cobweb in the corner and a few hints of dust here and there. Mickey was surprised as it dawned on him that the Princess didn't have guests.

“Of course she doesn't!” Pete groused as he was forced to drag in extra futons. “She's a Princess, ya dope! She doesn't have time for tea parties or sleepovers! She's got a lot of stuff to do, thanks to the Oni King. She's never got a moment's rest.”

“That's awfully sad,” Mickey said, sitting atop a pillow. He was frustrated that the Princess wouldn't hand over the Lucky Hammer, yet he couldn't bring himself to outright hate her for it. A promise to family was an important thing, and hadn't Mickey set out on this quest because of his own family? “Sounds like she doesn't have much in the way of friends.” Neither did he, before setting out.

“Aw, she likes us plenty!” Goofy replied as he helped drag in the last futon, tripping over it in the process. “And we like her too!” Pete made a 'so-so' gesture with his hand as Goofy talked. “She's real nice to everyone,” Pete shrugged one shoulder, “And when you get to know the real her, she's a hoot and a half.” Pete spun a finger next to his head.

“You two ever think about going into show business?” Marsupilami said with a snort, dropping Panchito with an unfriendly _OOF_ onto the last futon.

This seemed to rouse Panchito out of his stupor, as he sat up dizzily, holding his head. “Where am I?”

“In the palace!” Mickey jogged over to Panchito, a little worried. “Are you okay? You finally met the guy who saved you, then you were out like a snuffed candle.”

“Did I?” Panchito tilted his head in thought, trying to recall. His memory acted quick, it seemed, for his cheeks, flushed, his eyes rolled back - 

“Oh, no you don't.” Marsupilami pointed at Panchito with his tail, grateful that Jose wasn't with them as he'd taken over the shift guarding the front of the palace. “Maurice, give him the wake up special.”

Maurice made an oddly cheerful grunt in response, then gently grabbed Panchito by the shirt and slapped him six times back and forth. “I'M AWAKE! I'M AWAKE! And I think I lost a tooth!”

“Good, now we can focus on the real problem.” Marsupilami used his hands and tail to gesture back to the one inch wonder. “The Princess didn't give him the Lucky Hammer, in case you failed to notice.”

“Does it look like she hands out gifts?” Pete crossed his arms, glaring down at all of them. “The Lucky Hammer is hidden in the palace, and only the Princess knows the location. Plenty of people have tried to search for it, but no one's come even close! Not even when they search every single stinking inch of this doggone massive place...” The more descriptors he used, the more his helpful advice turned into low muttering.

“She mentioned a promise to her family,” Mickey began to walk around in a small circle, trying to figure out his plan of action from here on out. “Maybe she can only use it if there's an emergency?”

“If that was true,” Marsupilami replied, using his hand and tail to scratch his head. “then she would have used it against the Oni King ages ago! Even a pint-sized Princess can become a powerhouse is she's a hundred feet tall. Why, anyone could take down the Oni King if they were just big enough. Whatever she promised her old man, it must have been important enough that he'd make the rules so strict.”

“He was awfully protective of his little girl,” Goofy answered. Though his face was youthful, he'd actually been guarding the palace for a very long time. “No one was ever good enough for her, and he didn't trust most folks around her. He meant well, but, shucks, sometimes I think he couldn't imagine her all grown-up and doin' grown-up things.”

Mickey stopped in his circle, glancing up at Goofy with a raised eyebrow. “Y'know, Goofy... it sounds like you know exactly what the promise was.”

Goofy hesitated, exchanging a nervous glance with Pete. Pete let out a mean laugh. “Oh, c'mon, let 'em know! Not like any of them have a chance. I tell you, the Oni King would surrender and commit _seppuku_ before she ever considered one of them.”

“I am both very insulted and very confused,” Panchito remarked.

Goofy shrugged both shoulders – Pete always had an easy time making Goofy bow to his requests, no matter how mean spirited they were. “Well, fellas, the thing is...on his death bed, the Emperor made the Princess promise she could only show the location of the Lucky Hammer to one person. Until then, no one's even allowed to look at it, much less go aroun' using it for themselves.”

“Enough building up dramatic tension!” Marsupilami snapped, growing impatient. “My man Mickey needs this hammer! After all we've been through, it can't be that hard to be whatever the Princess needs! Who is the only person the Princess can show it to?”

“Her husband.”

Pete rather enjoyed the stunned silence and popped eyes that created, even though he had reacted the same way when he learned this information when he first began working for the Princess. “Her what?” Mickey asked loudly in disbelief.

“Her husband.” Goofy repeated.

“Her _what?!_ ”

“Her hus-”

“They get the idea!” Pete slapped a hand over Goofy's mouth to stop the comedy routine. “And the Princess has got some crazy standards, so don't go thinkin' you can just sweep her off her feet and take the hammer. Once the sun comes, I'm personally gunna boot you all out of here! Last thing we need is a bunch of eyesores taking up room where they don't belong. Our jobs are hard enough as is, without needing to babysit a bunch of weirdos!”

Mickey didn't hear any of the abuse, still suck on the word “husband”. Just like that, his heroic journey ended with a devastating blow that he never saw coming. Did his parents know about this restriction? If he had asked them and they gave such an answer, would Mickey had ignored it and gone through with his quest? Or would have common sense kicked in and stopped him before he took his first step? His entire body slumped, and his knees hit the floor, agony clear in his small features. Pluto whined, sniffing his master and trying to give him an encouraging lick – Mickey didn't even care that his clothes got wet and sloppy from saliva. All the dangers he'd faced, all the things he'd learned, all the panic and fear he'd given his dear mother... all of it was for nothing.

“Ah, geez.” Marsupilami couldn't even think of a decent wise-crack to lighten the mood. He sat down near Mickey, watching the typically cheerful mouse lose more color. “I'm sorry, Mickey. We all did our best, but none of us saw this coming. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.” Maurice moaned quietly in agreement, hands together in an apologetic gesture.

“What, we're giving up?” Panchito asked, rather surprised by this change in mood. “No, of course not! Mickey, where is that shining determination you won me over with? This is but another dutiful challenge in your quest, one of the stepping stones to becoming a worthy man!”

“How is getting married make me a worthy man in my father's eyes?” Mickey lifted his head, trying not to glare at his friend yet irked that Panchito couldn't see the obvious problems. “I was prepared to take down Oni, to travel across harsh terrain and face dangerous obstacles, but I can't get married just to make myself taller! I never even had friends before I left my house, and you think I can win over a girl easy-peasy? The _Princess_ of all people?! Even if it wasn't difficult, I still wouldn't marry a girl so I could take advantage of her father's dying wish and use it for myself! That's not the act of a man, that's just...bein' a lousy jerk!”

A hush fell over the room, and Panchito had enough sense not to push the subject any further, looking down at his feet in shame. Pete snorted, not feeling sorry for anyone, and pushed Goofy out of his way so he could leave the sadsacks. Goofy watched him go, then scratched his head, feeling awkward about the whole thing. “Gwarsh, fellas, I'm real sorry. Maybe once the Princess does wind up gettin' hitched, she and her new husband will let you use the Lucky Hammer!”

Struggling to hold onto any spot of hope, Panchito jumped to his feet. “Your brilliance shines through, Sir Goofy! If Mickey cannot be her true love, we can help her find the right man!”

“She _is_ the Princess,” Marsupilami tapped his fingers on his knees. “A girl like that must get a dozen suitors a day. Maybe all we have to do is wait it out until she chooses the right one.”

Goofy very slowly chose to look in the opposite direction, fiddling with his fingers, whistling innocently – though with his big teeth, it was difficult to carry the higher notes and he mostly wound up spitting. Mickey didn't think himself terribly brilliant, but even he could see a bad sign when it was clear in his face. “What's the problem _now_?”

“Aw, gee, well... I didn't mean to get your hopes up. But the Princess has been... mighty picky when it comes to who she wants to marry. We've had potential suitors come in almost every day since she got to be the right age for it... and every day she's said no.”

Marsupilami clicked his tongue. “Those must be some pretty high standards your girl's got.”

Again, Goofy's eyes wouldn't really meet anyone. No one outside of the palace knew about Minnie's unique obsession, and Clarabelle had threatened to gut anyone who dared leak it. “She's...got standards, all right.” With that, he was quick to try and change the subject to distract from their sorrows. “Why don't all of ya make yerselves comfy? I'll bring dinner when it's hot and ready! It's real nice havin' actual guests for a change. Pete can be awfully hard to get along with, and Jose will drop any conversation if he sees a pretty girl or boy across the way.”

Panchito was certainly distracted. “Wait a minute. Are you calling my _sensei_ a skirt-chaser?”

Goofy would have defined it as skirt and pants chaser, but he had a feeling he'd said enough for one day, and quickly made for the exit. “See you at dinner!”

“HANG ON, I NEED CLARIFICATION ABOUT MY _SENSEI_!” Panchito bolted right after him, and Mickey was very sure he wouldn't see that silly rooster for a while.

With the nuttiest people out of the room, Mickey flopped onto his back, not caring how hard the tatami mat was. What was he supposed to do now? Go back home with his tail between his legs? Even if it wouldn't be humiliating, he'd made a vow not to return until he was a man Donald would call his son. Nothing had changed about him, far as Mickey knew, so it'd be breaking a promise, and samurai never broke their promises. Where did that leave him? What would he do with his life now? Was his only choice to actually wait until the Princess was married – a thought that made him physically ill, for unknown reasons – and hope her husband would allow Mickey to use the hammer? What if that took months? Years?

“Okay, so the goal's kaput.” Marsupilami broke the silence with a shrug. “That just means you get to find a new one. Me and Maurice? Our only goal has ever been survival, so I'd say we're doing a top-notch job. Set your new goal as low as possible, and you'll never be disappointed. High expectations is a sucker's game. For now?” He copied Mickey, flopping on his back, although at least he landed on a futon, as did Maurice. “We're staying in the guest room of the palace, for gosh sakes! We'll eat fancy food and live like kings until the sun rises. Who else can say that?”

“I guess,” Mickey mumbled, his spirits not rising any higher. Pluto quietly whined, laying near Mickey, upset that he couldn't offer his Master any help. As Marsupilami yammered on about how the scavenger life wasn't so bad, so long as you didn't mind sleeping on dirt and eating the occasional bug, Mickey felt one of his triple headaches coming on. He rubbed his head as best he could though he knew it wouldn't help, it'd just eventually fade away as it always did. Whenever he complained of them to his mother, she would always try some new herb or oil or other bad-smelling remedy to make it go away, and while it never worked, he always knew she put in as much effort as possible. Donald would complain about the stench, and throw out the ill antidote before it made Mickey nauseous – which Mickey also appreciated.

Mickey did want to be his father's son, so in that moment he tried to change gears in his mind. All day and all night, he had but one thought – if Donald was in this situation, what would he do?

~*~

At that moment, Donald was so hungry, he would have shoved all those foul-smelling remedies down his stomach with little complaint. Daisy's act of charity, which he still complained about, had made their food supply dwindle rapidly. They both knew they needed to stop in the closest village to restock if they had any hope of continuing their journey, and on this day with the sun starting to set, they spotted such a village after climbing over a small hill. It was a very tiny village, and looked like they could have entered and left it in fifteen minutes.

Of course they didn't know it was the same village Mickey had gone through days before, but they'd soon learn. 

All of the villagers were outside, using their combined manpower to restore all that Maurice had destroyed. Donald tried to find the least busiest bees, not wanting to get in the way of their reconstruction, and settled on a gaggle of geese who much more interested in gabbing than sewing new curtains. “Excuse me,” Donald said as he approached the twin sisters and slouching male, “Where can we find lodging for the night?”

“Oh, not too far, good sir,” said the woman all in pink. “The inn around the corner is mostly fixed. Isn't that right, Abigail?”

“Mostly, mostly, Amelia,” the woman all in blue repeated, finding this funny. “All the rooms on top still need work, but all the ones below should be safe and sound.”

Daisy glanced around, worried about all the rampant destruction, and assumed the culprit was a deadly Oni. Oh, to think her dear baby was out in this awful world! “Have any of you seen a very small-”

“Don't bother, Daisy.” Donald roughly cut her off, not wanting Daisy to get her hopes up and have them crudely dashed. “No one will have seen him, he's too small to be seen! We'll stay the night, buy supplies, then head off in the morning.”

“Seen who?” asked the man, followed by a loud hiccup, after which he tried to adjust his torn green hat back onto its proper place. His breath made it clear he'd been drinking on the job, and it wasn't water. “Oh, we've seen a lot of crazy things, haven't we, my dears?”

“Indeed we have, Uncle Waldo!” Amelia tittered, covering her mouth with her hand. “And sometimes I still can't believe we we've seen!”

“It's because we saw it we can believe it, sister mine.” Amelia chided, wagging her finger back and forth. “Why, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I would've thought it was one of Uncle Waldo's... um... 'funny dreams'. Like that time with the pink elephants.”

“They were on parade, I tell ya!”

Donald and Daisy didn't have to look at each other to know what their spouse was thinking – the geese sounded nuts, but at the same time they worded their insanity so craftily one couldn't be curious. “What did you see?” Daisy asked.

“Aw, I bet it was just an Oni attack.” Donald huffed, unwilling to ever leave his bad mood behind. “And I've seen more than enough for one lifetime. There's nothing special about them anymore.”

Amelia smirked, leaning in because she'd finally found another person to share the tale, and it was difficult to gossip with people who already knew all the stories of their tiny town. “Have you ever seen an Oni attack stopped by a one-inch man?”

“One-inch!” Donald and Daisy yelped together, so taken aback they almost fell over. In her haste to find her boy, Daisy grabbed Amelia by her arms and began shaking her violently. “What did he look like? Was he all right? _Did he miss his mommy_?”

Donald managed to free Amelia by dragging his wife backwards. “What... what my wife means to say is... are you sure you saw that? It sounds pretty crazy.” Yet his heart was pounding wildly. Had Mickey actually come this way? Had they found proof Mickey was alive, at least for one moment in time? It hurt to believe, yet at the same time relief flooded through his body like a cooling mist. Mickey was too stubborn to die, too stubborn for his own good, just like Daisy.

Just like him, too, but he tried not to let that thought stay.

As Amelia smoothed down her sleeves, Abigail took over the narrator role. “Not too long ago, this wretched beast attacked out village. It was stronger than twenty men put together, no one could stop it! It destroyed everything and anything in its path, and we feared the entire village would be ruined! It was even using this poor long-tailed man as a weapon!”

“It was horrifying,” Uncle Wade added with a smelly burp, “Then funny, then back to horrifying, then funny again.”

“Just when all hope seemed lost...” Amelia resumed her role, hands spread out as she lightly mimed what she'd seen, “This very tiny person jumped into battle! Smash! Bang! Crack! Oh, it was amazing, I tell you, I only wish you could have seen it! And with one more flick of his wrist, the beast was defeated!”

The problem was with a grand story is that the longer it spreads, the more outlandish it becomes. While certain points were correct, there hadn't been any smash, bang, or crack, although you'd have a hard time convincing the gossipers there wasn't. Not knowing this, Donald and Daisy held each other's hands, their eyes wide with shock as they tried to imagine this story playing out in their minds, jaws hanging open in the wind.

“This part always makes me cry,” Abigail took over, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “I bet many a man would have slain the best right there and then, making sure it never hurt anyone else, but... not this one! He showed it compassion! He showed it mercy! They walked off together, like new friends in the sunset! I say, that's the real sign of a true man! And he was only one inch tall!”

“I say he's more the size of a peach pit.” Waldo then hiccuped three times in a row, until he lost his balance and fell flat on his tail. No one helped him up.

Daisy lost the strength in her legs, and let out a loud, consoled cry, letting Donald catch her as she sobbed into his chest. “Oh, he's all right! Thank all the gods and goddesses, he really is all right!”

Donald lightly patted Daisy on the back, smiling nervously as the geese gave his wife perplexed looks. “She's...such a sucker for sob stories.” He inhaled deeply, unsure how to feel himself. Of course it was good to know that Mickey was alive and well but – how could any of that story have a grain of truth to it? Mickey wasn't capable of taking down gigantic killer beasts! Yet why would this weird family make up such a ludicrous story? Logic battled logic, giving him a thudding migraine – it wasn't possible, yet it had been done! It couldn't be, but it was! “You really...saw all of that, start to finish?”

“It's as true as my feathers are white,” said Amelia, who had very bright white feathers. “It's a shame he left so soon. I wager the entire village would have thrown him a grand celebration for his heroic deed!”

“Or as grand as we could make it, given how much repairs cost.” Abigail admitted with a half-shrug.

“That's why we call him... _hic_!” Waldo hit his chest. “The Inch High – _hic_ – The Inch High – _hic_ – The Inch High Samurai!”

Daisy had a million questions to ask in detail, but right now the only thing she could get out was a happy “ _WAAAHAHAHAAAAA_ ” which faintly reminded Donald of their days when she lamented about not having a baby. Donald himself was so conflicted about what he'd heard that he took the coward's way out and went into an unhealthy mix of denial and anger. “He's not a samurai,” he growled under his breath, trying to lead Daisy away to the inn. “He's just a boy who doesn't know what he's doing, and who is going to get himself killed!” _And whose fault was that?_ , asked what little there was of his conscience. Not his, no! How was he supposed to know Mickey would run away when he was told that after eighteen years of being raised in a loving home his father didn't consider him a son at all?

His old injury began to throb, as if it was saying, _You're kidding, right?_

“Aw, phooey,” Donald muttered, grateful Daisy couldn't read minds, or she'd smack him six ways to Sunday if she heard any of it.

~*~

Mickey didn't sleep well that night, his usual headaches aside. Over and over he thought of the question, what would Donald do? His mind refused to cheat around the answer, since Donald had never been so small. The body meant nothing if he couldn't match Donald's fearless samurai soul. So Mickey went through endless scenarios, trying to envision Donald at this hopelessly lost problem, and how he would continue to move forward and never look back. With every passing minute, Mickey's own sadness began to fade away, evaporated by hope.

By the time the sun came up, Mickey found the answer to his question.

Goofy came by to drop off breakfast, but before any of his friends could chow down, Mickey raised his hand. “Sir Goofy, I need an audience with the Princess, pronto!”

The guard paused as he lowered the tray full of bowls with miso soup and white rice. “Hm? Well... she just finished up one of her meetings, she should still be in the throne room. C'mon, follow me!”

“What's the plan, Mickey?” Panchito asked as the small group followed Goofy, with Mickey taking a ride on Pluto.

“Are you going to beg and plead and cry for the Lucky Hammer?” Marsupilami asked, slurping from the bowl he snatched on the way out. “Dignity's overrated, if you ask me.” He tried to take Maurice's bowl as well, but a growl and a glare made him decide otherwise.

“I just need you all to trust me.” Mickey answered, his eyes forward and not moving an inch otherwise.

“We're with you all the way, Mickey!” Panchito pumped his fists, eyes glittering with anticipation for Mickey's heroic resolve. “No matter what! We'll follow you to the ends of the earth! Nothing can stop us!”

“Except if Jose looks at you for half a second,” Marsupilami quipped.

At the entrance to the throne room, Goofy knocked three times before announcing his presence. “Mickey and his pals would like an audience with you, Princess! Maybe to say thanks before they go?”

On the other side, Mickey could hear Minnie's strong, royal voice, which was still so strange to hear since he knew of her sweet, delicate tone. He also thought he heard her tell Clarabelle to burn something called a “Sir Sakura body pillow”, but since pillows were for heads, he assumed it was his imagination. “Enter.”

Goofy pushed the giant door open, smiling as he gestured for everyone to go inside. Minnie was sitting atop her throne, and joined at her side were Clarabelle, Pete, and Jose – _THUD_. “Panchito's out again.” Marsupilami said as he caught the red-faced rooster.

Mickey ignored what ruined the dramatic entrance, bowing respectfully to the Princess as did his companions, with Maurice and Marsupilami using Panchito's body as a puppet and making him bow too. Minnie held one of her usual decorated fans in front of her mouth, making her expression difficult to read. “A good morning to you all,” she addressed them, watching Mickey with her steel-cold eyes. “I need not thanks for allowing my people to take refuge in my home. But if you wish to speak, I will hear you.”

“It would honor me more if you heard my request, Princess.” Mickey took a breath, and lifted his head. “If you will allow me and my friends... we wish to become guards of the palace!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey takes on the same path as his father once did, but finds new shadows waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> Not much to say here, save for pepping some foreshadowing, some more obvious than others. We're really deep in "making thus up as I go along" territory, folks. Cross your fingers and wish me luck.

“Guards?” Everyone repeated – save for Panchito, who was suffering from another one of Maurice's wake-up specials – after Mickey had finished his request, each person giving the word their own level of shock. As such - 

“Guards?” Princess Minnie's fan was being used to hide her eager smile, recalling that Sir Sakura and his own love interest had met by him being her bodyguard.

“Guards?” Clarabelle could guess what Minnie was thinking in seconds and panicked, trying to think of how to put a stop to her illicit daydreaming.

“Guards?” Pete was incredulous – now he had even more obstacles in his way!

“Guards?” Goofy tilted his head, quietly curious as to why Mickey wanted to do it all of a sudden.

“Guards?” Jose was thoroughly amused, and saw endless potential for hilarity and entertainment out this arrangement.

“Guards?” Marsupilami could sense that for once, he and Maurice would have to do some actual work in their lives, and he couldn't say he really cared for it.

“Guards?” Panchito finally said, managing to stay awake so long as he didn't look at Jose for more than three seconds, and he'd already last track of what was going on.

Minnie snapped her fan shut, instantly coming to a decision. “Your desire to protect your people, _and_ your princess, is very noble. I have given your request a great deal of thought-”

“It's been six seconds,” Clarabelle hissed.

“-and it is with great honor and privilege that I-”

“Deny your request!” Clarabelle cut in again, snatching the fan out of Minnie's hand. “Absolutely not, no, no, no! Princess, I ask for so little, but this is sheer common sense! Look at him! Sure, maybe his friends could be of use – except for that rooster that keeps fainting, no offense-”

“None taken!” Four seconds, _THUD_.

“- But how could someone that small protect anybody?”

Hearing that stung, even if it was the truth, but Mickey didn't want to give up again. He had just barely pulled himself out of misery and self-loathing by the memory of his honored father, and if he sunk back down he wasn't sure he could climb out of it ever again. So if his father “saved” him once, perhaps he could do it again. “I wish to follow in my father's footsteps! The truth is, Princess...my father once served your own! I am the son of Donald Duck and Daisy Duck!”

Jose suddenly straightened up, lifting up his helmet to get a better look at Mickey. “Donald Duck! Sir Donald, are you speaking the truth? The one and only noble and righteous Donald?”

Minnie slid a spare fan out of her sleeve, much to Clarabelle's frustration, and resumed her mysterious, stony aura by opening it front of her mouth again. “I take it you know of him, Sir Jose?”

“Know of him!” Jose slapped a hand to his chest, looking more serious than anyone in the room knew he was capable of being. “Why, before you were born, lovely Princess, I proudly served alongside him! He and I took down many fierce Oni, and Sir Donald was the strongest, mightiest, and dare I say handsomest samurai that has ever served the royal family! There were Oni who ran from the palace doors at the mere mention of his name! To think we would be in the presence of his own son, we are more than honored, we are blessed by the gods!” Yet when he stopped his passionate speech and saw Mickey again, he had to admit there might been some extra hype. Mostly because as far as he knew about genetics, Duck + Duck did not = Mouse. “Um... not much of a family resemblance, is there?”

“I know I'm adopted.”

“Oh, good, because this would have been extremely awkward otherwise.” With that, he resumed all the passion and flare he had been displaying seconds ago. “Dear Princess! Though he may be small in stature, there is no way anyone who lived under the roof of Sir Donald is anything less than exemplary! Why, I bet Sir Donald taught him ways to fight that take ready advantage of his size! All that he has learned must have been passed down to the next generation!”

Only now did Mickey see a tiny flaw in his plan, and he cleared his throat, eyes shifting about as he spoke timidly. “Ah, well, about that-”

“If Sir Jose says it is true,” Minnie unknowingly interrupted, not hearing Mickey's attempt at a confession. “Then it must be so. I will hear no further argument.” Nor would she hear Clarabelle snapping the fan in her hands in sheer frustration. “Starting today, Mickey – _Sir_ Mickey – and his allies will join the guardsmen, protecting the capital and the palace. Sir Goofy, get them proper armor and blades as soon as they can be acquired.”

Goofy bowed low, always happy to make new friends, and so he was quite pleased by all that had happened. “Yes, Princess.”

“Sir Jose, begin rearranging the shifts. I want at least two men on every patrol, no one is to be alone when they're on the job.”

Jose also bowed deeply but his had extra flourish. “Yes, Princess.”

“And Sir Pete, you will train them in our ways, and show them everything they need to know – a top-to-bottom layout of the capital and of the palace.”

“Aw, why me?” Pete groaned, slouching in his reluctance. “I have to take all these chumps under my wing? A dog, a gorilla, some weird tail-monkey, a fainting rooster-”

“I'm up, I'm up!”

“And a little boy who I could crush in the palm of my hand? What did I ever do to you?”

Mickey thought Minnie's eyes were very pretty, and didn't know why his friends had insisted that the Princess was a cold-hearted force to be reckoned with – until this point. Minnie's eyes narrowed slowly, and the icy chill stabbing from her deep blues was enough to make Mickey feel like he had traveled to the arctic. He could even feel Pluto starting to shiver underneath him. “I am giving them to you because you are one of my most trusted guards, and if you wish to remain that way, you will take this order as an honor, not a punishment. After all the good faith you've earned with me, you wish to throw it away so easily?”

Pete didn't really answer, although he did grumble audibly, fingers clenching and unclenching as if he was fighting off a million and one impulses in the back of his head. The winter storm between felt as if it could last a thousand ages, were it not for Goofy coming over to slap Pluto on the back, since Mickey was too small for him to hit without injury. “Oh, Pete's a great choice to have! You guys will be A-O-K under his eye, I know it!” Goofy wasn't exactly fond of Pete, but he hated conflict much more. “Why, out of all of us, I'd say he's the very best!”

Pluto sat on his haunches so Mickey could try to look Goofy better in the eye. “How so? What makes him better than you or Jose or anyone else?”

“Why, we saw him take on five Oni at one time!” Goofy spread out his hand, counting on each finger. “The first day he came to the capital, Jose and I were guardin' the entrance, and then all of a sudden these Oni came straight out of nowhere! They were tearin' up the place and givin' us a real tough time!”

Pete was failing not to smile smugly, crossing his arms as his ego inflated. Jose caught on, and began to gesture out the fight with minimal movement. “What my companion says is true! He took down all five of them, and sent them running back home to their mamas! To this day, I still don't quite know how he did it, but it was done. He was hired right on the spot! Why, he's become so fearsome to the Oni since then, not one of them as ever shown up in the capitol!”

There was something off about this story, yet Mickey couldn't quite put his finger on it. He wasn't eager to find any lies anyway – Pete was his best shot at his real goal. “Then, Sir Pete, it is with esteem pleasure that we place ourselves in your care.” He topped it off with a bow that all his allies copied, even the continuously reluctant Marsupilami and the semi-conscious Panchito.

“Fine, fine, fine, I'll do it!” Pete marched over to Mickey, looking down at him as much as possible. “But don't think I'm gunna cut you any slack because of your size! You're going to obey all of my orders without question, you got that?”

“Yes, Sir! Without question!”

“That's what I like to hear! Now, my first order of business...” he reached over and plucked Mickey off of Pluto by the collar of his clothes, and dropped him onto the floor. “Twenty laps around the palace!”

Mickey fumbled on the floor, trying to regain his balance. “Twenty laps? … Which is not a question but repeating what you said, sir!”

“If you wanna be a guard, you gotta be in shape! Now get to it, all of you, unless you'd rather be target practice instead!”

A smarty-pants comment about how Mickey wasn't the right size for that either rose up in Mickey's throat, but he fought it off, and instead bolted for the door, not wanting to cause anymore fuss. He had secured the job, much faster and easier than he had actually anticipated, and he was in no hurry to lose it. Marsupilami began to whine about doing actual work, and Maurice dragged away Panchito who had failed at communicating anything towards Jose but squeaking gibberish. In a way, he kind of wished there had been more fuss about him becoming a guard, if only to decrease the guilt he was feeling deep within his chest.

Yes, of course he wanted to follow in his noble father's footsteps – but he'd only used his father's name to get into the door, as a footstool to the real goal. Somewhere within the palace was the Lucky Hammer, hidden away and only known by the Princess. If he couldn't convince her to grant her the size he needed, he'd have to find it himself. Maybe with his unusual height, he had an advantage over anyone else who had searched high and low in the palace. Yet no matter how far and fast he ran, he couldn't escape his disgrace – to try and honor his father by becoming regular-sized, he'd used him like a cheap trick.

Throughout it all, he tried to hold onto one singular hope – that when he was normal, he would be accepted, and no matter how bad he felt now, it would all be worth it in the end. In the end, what other choice did he have? It wasn't as if he'd ever be the Princess' husband.

~*~

“No, no, no, a million and infinity times no.”

After her long series of meetings had ended, Minnie was back in her room, rearranging her books with a song in her heart. Clarabelle had immediately followed her and stood in the doorway, making her open heard very loudly. Minnie merely continued to hum, back in her natural persona as she stacked books upon books upon books. “I don't know what you mean,” she replied in a sing-song manner, clapping her hands once when she found her desired volume.

“You cannot marry Mickey! I won't allow it! All your ancestors won't allow it!”

“Sir Mickey,” she corrected, flopping onto her bed so she could reread her favorite chapter. “And didn't you say you'd let me marry anyone?”

“How was I supposed to know men came in his size?!” Clarabelle futilely measured an imaginary Mickey in her hands before trying to come inside the tricky bedroom space. “Besides, you're missing the point entirely! I want you to have a husband who can support you in times of need, a man you can rely on, who can protect you-”

“I bet Sir Mickey can do all those things. Love knows no obstacles.”

“And can give you children.” Clarabelle finished sharply.

Minnie paused, glancing up from her book for half a second. “... Okay, we'll adopt. But love can overcome all those other obstacles.”

“You do _not_ love him!” Clarabelle had to awkwardly angle herself around several stacks of books before she made it to the bed, as she felt she had to try and tip the book she was reading away from her eyes. “You don't even know him! You only think you do because he resembles some made-up character in a fantasy world!”

“It's destiny!” Minnie insisted, tugging her book right back and flipping it around – the illustrated page showing Sir Sakura kneeling before his retainer and pledging his eternal loyalty. “See? It happened just like in my book! It's meant to be! We'll grow closer day by day, he'll get jealous of me spending time with the other guards but not understand why, then we'll have a silly nonsense fight, only for him to return in the rain and declare his forbidden feelings for me! Then we'll live happily ever after! … Until the next volume, when I get kidnapped and he has to come and rescue me while fighting off urges from a vile temptress.”

When Clarabelle first became Minnie's handmaiden, she had sworn to protect the Princess from everything even at the cost of her own life, a sacred vow she held very deeply. Right now she was mildly considering breaking this vow to smack Minnie repeatedly with that book. Who would have guessed she'd have to protect Minnie from Minnie? She inhaled as hard as her body would allow, her hands pressed together as she tried to form some sort of argument that would make the Princess listen. “Okay... since common sense isn't doing me any favors today... let's try this. Let's say you like him, even if it's for a ridiculous and purely insane reason. Is there any reason Mickey would like you?”

Minnie stopped, jerking her head, her expression incredulous. “Are you saying I'm unlikable?”

“No! What I'm saying is... what does Mickey know about you, that would make him like you as a wife?”

“Well... he, uh....he, um...” She slowly began to place the open book down on her lap as she had to think about it. “I was...very nice to him when we first met!”

“Everyone is supposed to be very nice when you make an introduction. What does he know about you that makes you _you_ , and not... basic human decency?”

Clarabelle had only intended for Minnie to slow down her romantic endeavors and take her future more seriously, but she'd unknowingly opened up a trap door that Minnie fell through in one fell swoop. What about her made her... unique? Worthy of love? She only ever had two goals in life – to be a good Princess for her people, and find a man like Sir Sakura. Outside of that, what else did she have? One could argue the first goal wasn't really hers either – wasn't every royal figure supposed to want to be good for their people? That just left her wanting to find someone to love her exactly as these black and white pages said love was supposed to be.

So who was Minnie, outside of the palace and away from these fantasy books? She had no idea. How could you love someone that didn't exist as a whole? At that moment, she couldn't even fathom loving herself. Clarabelle was taking the long stretch of silence as a good sign, and began to advise her about how if you wanted to win over any man, friendship was the first goal – she had no idea the Princess was going through an identity crisis and thus not listening to a single word being spoken.

Neither woman was paying attention to the book in Minnie's lap, where Sir Sakura was going into a rambling soliloquy about his devotion to the fair maiden he was guarding. It was very unlike how Mickey had asked for the job, merely getting right to the heart of the matter instead of taking up twenty pages.

Somewhere in the back of Minnie's mind, the tiny light of hope found it odd that despite such a vast difference, she preferred Mickey's way of asking .

~*~

With both mice now terribly uncertain about their futures, the wheels of fate were set in motion. Panchito, Maurice, Marsupilami were all equipped with the official palace armor and given their own blades from the finest blacksmith in the capitol, with Pluto getting his own super shiny collar. Mickey's size, to no one's real shock, presented a problem with getting his own armor and blade, but he put up a stiff upper lip and insisted his soft robes and sewing needle would suit him just fine. Pete reluctantly did as he was told, showing them the ins and outs of the palace, with Mickey ever vigilant for any sign of a hidden space that could hold the treasure he sought.

When the first day ended and they retreated to their newfound living quarters with the other soldiers, Mickey waited until he heard snores fill up the room before he slid out into the night. The palace was quite tall, certainly larger than the already enormous home he'd grown up in. It would have taken ages for a regular-sized person to search every nook and cranny – given his own height, it could have taken years and years. But as he quietly knocked on floorboards and climbed up windows, he didn't think about all the time he'd have to spend in the future.

Instead his mind kept going back to the past, about how he had gone about memorizing the layout of his home. He was sure he could walk through it blindfolded and never bump into anything. There had been nights he slipped out of his drawer of a bedroom just to walk around and get his blood pumping. His mother had meant well, but constantly being told not to do anything had only made him long for the exact opposite. Thinking back on those times, he was certain his father had “caught” him doing this a few times, as he spotted Donald's open eye as he left the room – yet Donald had never said a word about it to Daisy. Even if he just couldn't be bothered to do so, Mickey was grateful for the small grace of freedom.

He missed his parents very much on that first night, knowing he'd definitely upset his mother and caused his father all sorts of trouble. Thinking of their aches made his search all the more difficult, and he shook his head hard in a futile effort to clear it. No matter how much pain he had caused them, it would all be healed when he was normal. Moonlight dimly shone through the windows, slightly aiding his search – until it was blocked. Distracted, Mickey peered outside, although he couldn't see much in the shadows. He was on the third floor of the palace, which allowed him to make sense of two things.

First, there was a fire in the garden. Not a large, all-destroying monstrosity that had nearly killed Grandma's fields, but a contained campfire. The smoke from the fire was blocking the moon on and off because of the second thing he'd noticed – whoever was making the fire was covering it with something, then taking it off, doing it over and over in strange intervals. If it was an intruder, Mickey knew it was his duty to alert the others and have the invader kicked out – but if it was someone trying to break into the castle, they certainly were going about it in a very strange way! Maybe it was harmless. Weird, but harmless.

The figure down below eventually became satisfied with his work because they stopped and put out the campfire. After shuffling, possibly to get rid of evidence it was ever there, the figure approached the castle wall, and began to climb it with ease! Mickey stared, but then he remembered how he first met Marsupilami and Maurice – Maurice had been climbing up the inn without breaking a sweat. Strange and stranger still – wasn't Maurice asleep with the others? Maybe he'd gone out to cook a light meal in the gardens and follow it up with some exercise. It was unusual, but Mickey decided that since all of his friends were unusual, one of them doing something unusual _wasn't_ unusual! … Or something like that. He was getting one of his triple headaches again trying to sort it all out.

With the mystery solved, he hopped out of the windowsill and resumed his search. He knew he wouldn't be lucky enough to find the hammer on his first night, and after a few more hours of searching he dragged himself back to the shared room to catch some shut-eye. From here on out, it was only a matter of time and patience. He wouldn't leave the capitol until he found the Lucky Hammer, even if it took until he was old and gray. He rather hoped he'd find it before the Princess was married, he thought to himself as he laid down to sleep. Honestly, what had Panchito been thinking? She'd never marry such a small person.

But she might marry a person who _was_ small and suddenly became regular-sized.

Mickey's eyes shot open, bewildered as to where _that_ thought came from, and alas, he couldn't sleep a wink for the rest of the night.

~*~

As the days of intense training began for Mickey and his companions, Donald and Daisy came upon a long dirt road with an unforgiving sun in the sky – the same road where Mickey had come across the sword-wielding rooster. With no trees to offer them shade, it made the walk seem much longer. Were it not for his old injury, Donald would have insisted on carrying Daisy on his back, so she wouldn't have to strain herself under the heat. By this point in their journey, the euphoria about Mickey's heroics had worn off for Daisy, and she was back into panic mode. She knew airing her grievances would do no good, and settled for mumbling them while biting her fingernails. Donald silently offered a squeeze of her hand whenever her saw her do this, even if it didn't help.

Eventually, he could take it no more, and made an attempt. “He's probably too stubborn to get into more trouble.”

Daisy raised her head, surprised to hear him. “What?”

“Mickey. You know how he is... you know him better than I do. He's headstrong and foolish... so much that even if he was close to death, he'd just be too bullheaded to accept it. So he's probably fine.”

“Are you trying to cheer me up?”

He glanced over at her grimly. “Is it not working?”

“I'm sorry, honey.” Her eyes went down again, a tragic expression that tore up Donald's heart. “I know you might be right, but I can't help worrying. The world is a dangerous place... you, as a samurai, should know that more than anyone. Maybe I would feel more at peace if the previous Oni King hadn't died, and the peace treaty went through, but... now things are dangerous no matter where you go. Mickey could be flattened, or squished, or trampled, or... he could wind up doing the worst thing in the world!”

Maybe it wasn't helping settling her fears by asking, but how did she not expect him to follow up? “What's that?”

Daisy inhaled deeply, and put her free hand to her face to make sure she wouldn't cry. “He might... _meet_ someone!”

All the worry and sadness in Donald's chest vanished in seconds. “What.”

“When a boy _meets_ someone and gets those special feelings, he doesn't need his mommy anymore!” Daisy wailed, and her tears began to flow freely, oblivious to Donald's exasperated stare. “It's too soon! I don't wanna give him up to anyone! They'll never realize how special he is, not like his mommy does!”

For a brief moment, Donald thought perhaps Mickey might be better off without them. “Daisy, isn't he eighteen?”

“Babies are babies no matter how old they get! He's always going to be my darling little boy! That's why I never wanted you to give him the birds and the bees talk!”

Donald had always assumed this was because there would be no birds or bees Mickey's size. If Mickey did meet a special someone, they'd have to be pretty special too in order to love someone past such a big – well, small – obstacle. He considered mentioning this to Daisy, but as he heard her wail about refusing to acknowledge any in-laws, decided not to. His wife could be very silly, but that was one of the things he liked about her. Had Mickey inherited any of that from her?

He really didn't know much about Mickey, did he? Despite having shared a home all these years, there hadn't been much conversation between them, not for lack of trying on Mickey's part. After the awful thing Donald had said in the fields, would Mickey ever want to come back home? What if they did find Mickey, but he had no desire to return with them? That would ultimately destroy Daisy, and he doubted she'd ever recover.

She was odd, but she was also full of love and sincerity and Donald would never want her to change. If Mickey was like Daisy at all, the woman he loved, then shouldn't he be able to find something he loved about Mickey? He allowed Daisy to ramble on, troubled by his guilty conscious.

Was Mickey happier without them, or was he meant to return to a man who still wouldn't acknowledge him as a son? He walked on, and on, and on, and found no answer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the gaze of moonlight, Mickey finds out there's much more to the Princess than even she knew. But could these new feelings lead to tragedy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my amazing editor,Drucilla!
> 
> Time for what you patient fans have been waiting for - fluff!

Within a day, armor and swords were provided to the new team of guards, all perfectly crafted to suit the wearer's needs – except for Mickey. The blacksmith had taken one look at Mickey... and vowed to give up drinking. It took fifteen long minutes to convince him Mickey was real. The old man said creating something so small yet accurate would take a long time, and Mickey understood this with a calm smile on his face. In fact, he tried to face all his new challenges with a smile on his face, since he thought if he looked confident, confidence would flow through him.

And Pete _was_ trying to make it challenging. Each day was filled with rigorous exercises, such as running up and down the floors with brooms in their hands (which to Mickey felt more like cleaning up), carrying huge sacks of flour and rice from the market to the palace (which to Mickey felt more like going shopping), and testing the rotation of their wrists by peeling endless potatoes (which to Mickey felt like they were doing Pete's chores.) Marsupilami did the least amount of effort at first, since he never had any intention of being a guard – but seeing Maurice so pleased that his strength was being put to good use made him work slightly more than he would've. Panchito gave 110% to everything – unless he ever spotted Jose, be it out of the corner of his eye or the parrot nonchalantly passing by, and he immediately went to pieces (along with whatever was in his hands.)

Mickey had several sneaking suspicions, but he swallowed them all and refused to let them rise to the surface. Maybe Pete was hiding real lessons under all the window-washing and weed-pulling, or maybe he was just being a jerk, but either way Mickey wasn't going to complain and get himself kicked out. Night after night he crept around the palace to try and find the Lucky Hammer, and night after night he returned to the bedroom with nothing to show for it. He may have looked confident on the outside, but on the inside, the impatience was knotting his stomach.

This made eating difficult one night as the group of friends gathered around their short wooden table, eating small bowls of white rice. While each one longed for extras, Pete had said a true samurai could live off small portions, and this was part of their training – which was difficult to take seriously as he said it with a mouthful of meat dumplings. Mickey was too small for his own bowl, so he had to eat it out of a tray that was normally used for soy sauce – except he wasn't eating at all. The first one to take notice of this was Pluto, who gently nudged his master with his wet nose and a sad whine.

“Aw, I'm all right, Pluto,” Mickey lied, affectionately rubbing Pluto's nose. “Just not that hungry, I guess.”

“Dibs!” Marsupilami cried out, but Maurice smacked away his chopsticks. “Aw, c'mon, I'm starving here! How does Pete expect us to survive on these meager portions? You look at him and tell me he's 'meager' about anything. He's just trying to make us quit!”

“I admit, this is very different from the training back at my family's dojo,” Panchito said after a thoughtful chew, lightly tapping his chopsticks to his beak. “We might be building muscle, but we haven't even had combat practice once. My sword's about to get rusty.”

“It's fine!” Mickey protested, not wanting to hear the accurate complaints. “Just because we don't understand it doesn't mean it's not working. Besides, why would Pete want us to leave? The more samurai that help guard the palace, the safer the capitol and the Princess will be, and who doesn't want that?”

Marsupilami began to dig out the last grains of rice with his pinky. “I'm not saying Pete is a bad guy – course, I'm not saying he's great either - but maybe the reason he hasn't been making us practice fighting is because there's nothing _to_ fight.”

Panchito raised his eyebrows as he tried to remember what had been said on their first day. “Didn't they say that no Oni has attacked the capitol since Pete arrived? That seems like such a long time. Since the Oni King wants the Lucky Hammer, you'd think he'd be attacking this place constantly to try and frighten the Princess into submission.”

“It's fine!” Mickey insisted again, his usual headache beginning to build up. “Why are you guys trying to make such a big deal out of everything? I thought you wanted to help me, and tearing this place apart isn't helping me at all! Marsupilami, you keep whining every time you break one bead of sweat, Panchito, you can't even think about Jose without passing out, and Maurice keeps trying to set the garden on fire every night!”

Marsupilami winced, and Panchito hung his head in shame – but Maurice merely blinked, confused. He then grunted while shaking his head, waving his hand back and forth. Marsupilami, always his translator, glanced over. “Huh? Maurice says he doesn't know what you're talking about.”

“You know what I mean!” Mickey huffed as he crossed his arms. “I see you every night – you go into the garden, you make a fire, then you climb up the palace. You've done it for a week straight, always in the middle of the night!”

Maurice made a series of rapid, puzzled grunts, waving his hands again and again. He then pounded an fist into his palm, laid it flat, and tilted his head, making pretend snoring noises. “Maurice says you're talkin' nonsense. Every night, the second his head hits the pillow, he's out, and nothing less than an earthquake can wake him back up.”

“Well...” Mickey fumbled, unsure where to go with his rant now that a part of it had been pulled out from under him. “It sure looked like it was him! Who else is that size and is strong enough to climb up the palace, all the way to the rooftop?”

“I have another question,” Panchito twirled his chopsticks around until they pointed right at Mickey, more inquisitive than accusing. “Why are you up in the middle of the night for a week straight?”

The little man hesitated, feeling all the curious eyes on him, and embarrassed anger made his neck flush. “I, uh... I... oh, who says I gotta tell you guys everything? I'm going out for a walk – alone!” he hopped off the table, and Pluto whined, laying down while resisting the urge to follow him.

Marsupilami sighed as he placed his empty bowl down. “Okay, so... maybe I whine just a little bit too much. This is a steady paying gig, and me and Maurice haven't had one of those in ages. I guess it's nice not to scavenge for every single meal and a roof over our heads for a change.” Maurice nodded silently in agreement.

“And how can I possibly make Jose my _senpai_ if I continue to lose strength in his presence?” Panchito agreed, slamming a fist to the table. “No more! Marsupilami, it's time you and I shaped up! We came here to help him, and we can't the way we are now! All you have to do is keep quiet, but I have a real challenge ahead of me...for Mickey's sake, I will find a way to confront my _senpai_! From now on, no more fainting, no more collapsing, and no more dreaming about him every night and waking up disappointed! I will be his student, and nothing more!”

Marsupilami glanced over at Maurice. “You wanna tell him or should I?” he muttered under his breath. Maurice made a simple “I'm staying out of this” gesture.

~*~

Mickey wasn't sure where he was running to – all he knew was that he wanted to escape telling his friends the truth and making things worse. They'd been so wonderfully nice to him, sticking with him even when their own objectives had been met, and he was repaying them in lies and stubbornness. While he was still new to having friends, he knew that wasn't how they were supposed to be treated. He slowed down his run to a tired walk, feeling the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders. He wished he could talk to someone about his troubles, but he didn't know if anyone would understand. He was the only person like himself, and now of all days it made him feel incredibly lonely, even in a palace full of people.

He would've continued to lick his wounds if he hadn't heard a familiar voice muffled through a nearby door - “And no more going into the gardens! In fact, consider the entire outside world banned until we find the Oni King and bring him down!” That was Clarabelle, and as he listened to her footsteps, he quickly stepped aside as the door slid open. After making such a declaration, he thought Clarabelle would look angry and tyrannical, but instead she appeared to be exhausted and weary. She cast one more sad glance behind her, before walking away and not spotting Mickey at all. Though he'd been here for several days, it was still very easy for people not to realize he was around.

Clarabelle had left the door open slightly, and Mickey realized it must be the Princess' room. After all, who else could a handmaiden try to give orders to? Curiosity began to overstep his earlier depression, even though he knew it would be wrong to peek into a fair maiden's room, especially that of her royal highness. He doubted anyone was even allowed to be in there, save for Clarabelle, and if she ever found out Mickey was there, she'd kick him so hard he'd land on the moon. So, why was he still thinking about it?

Because he heard faint sniffling, that's why. The strong, yet cheerful Princess was sniffling. It would have been easy to dismiss it as her having a cold, yet Mickey continued to inch near that small speck of open space, wanting to know if she really was all right. But it was a girl's room! By the time he got to the edge of the door, he made a decision that would assuage his guilt and make sure he did nothing wrong - even if it did make him feel pretty silly.

“Princess?” Mickey asked, with his back to the room, arms crossed, staring out into the night's oncoming shadows. There, he wasn't looking in! Not one bit! “Is everything all right?”

The sniffling abruptly stopped, and he heard shuffling, like someone was pushing aside something – her books, not that he'd know. “Sir Mickey? Is that you?”

“Yes, Princess.” Mickey saluted, even though he was still backwards. It felt like the right thing to do. “You sounded kinda... troubled. Or maybe I heard wrong. My ears _are_ both big and small at the same time, y'know!”

The joke worked, and he felt his heart flip as he heard her give a quiet chuckle. “Thank you, Sir Mickey. You're really very kind. Your body may be small, but your heart is just the right size.” A pause passed between them, and Mickey was nearly ready to wish her goodnight and move on. “I don't think you'd understand. I don't think anyone would.”

“Hm,” Mickey said in response, both relieved that he had been right so walking away would have been the wrong thing to do, and concerned that Minnie was indeed troubled. “You might be right, at least with me. Can't say I know what it's like to be a Princess. But you can't say you know what it's like to be me either. Nobody can. Isn't that kinda funny? We have something in common – that we don't have anything in common!”

The giggle that came out of Minnie this time had much more life to it, and it was only being stifled by a hand in front of her mouth, if he had to guess. He felt he would have been very happy to hear that sound for the rest of his life – and wondered if anyone else had ever heard it. It certainly didn't fit the image of the stony, cold Princess everyone had set to warn him about. “Say, Princess? I know I can't help you out, but... you mind if I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything you'd like.”

He couldn't resist. “Even the location of the Lucky Hammer?” He hoped his grin was conveyed in tone.

It seemed to work, since he thought he could “hear” a smirk in Minnie's reply. “I said you could ask me anything. I never said I'd answer it.”

Mickey liked her, that was for certain. She could be very cute when she wanted to be, which was what led him to his actual question. “Really, though... how come you don't laugh and smile when you're in front of everyone else? Seems like whenever you have to be the Princess, you change into another person entirely.”

Another pause, more shuffling, and then footsteps. She was coming up behind him, and sat on her knees, and Mickey really did want to turn around but he didn't move from his spot. “It's what I'm supposed to do,” she finally replied, her voice heavy with fatigue. “I have to look strong in front of my people, so they can be confident. So they don't have to worry about things.” Mickey thought this was rather ridiculous – everyone had things to worry about, it was only natural. He kept this to himself as he continued to listen. “Being a Princess is about more than being a person... I have to be a symbol. I have to represent all of Japan. So I can never show any signs of weakness. If my people saw me like this... a soft little girl... they wouldn't trust me at all.”

“I trust you,” Mickey replied automatically. He was surprised at how fast and easily that came out – but then decided it was nothing to be surprised about. He did trust her, mostly because he saw no reason why he shouldn't. Yet he still felt a little embarrassed. “I think I get it,” even though he didn't, not entirely, “But maybe one day, when the Oni King is defeated, and there's peace in the land, you don't have to be anyone but yourself. I think a lot of people would like you just the way you are. You didn't ask to the symbol for everyone...shoot, I didn't ask to be born this small. Nobody gets a real choice in how they're born. Even the Oni don't get to decide that. I think...and, well, maybe it's just me...if we all tried to understand that, and we focused on the choices we made, instead of what was forced on us...we might all get along better.”

A softer sound – perhaps she was placing her hands on the floor. “You're very wise, Sir Mickey. I wish more people could think the way you do.”

“Hm!” Mickey said again, this time with more gusto, his cheeks feeling hot. “I try. For the longest time, the only people I ever talked to were my mother and father. I never had friends before I met Pluto and them.”

“Clarabelle's my only friend. Before her, I didn't have any friends either. That's something else we have in common.” Mickey assumed he was on the right track as he heard the Princess say this, but the next subject completely threw him off. “Sir Mickey, do you like me?”

“Uh,” Mickey fumbled, now rather relieved he wasn't facing her, because he was certain his expression was fairly foolish. “A'course I do! Everyone likes you, Princess, cause... well, cause you're the Princess!”

A short, discouraged sigh came from the Princess, although for the life of Mickey he couldn't understand what he said wrong. “That's just a title... that's what I'm supposed to be. If I'm nice, it's because everyone's supposed to be nice. If I'm polite, it's because everyone's supposed to be polite. There's nothing about _me_ that people like – and I don't even know who me is. I don't know who I am at all, because I've spent so much time being the Princess.”

This was confusing Mickey on a number of levels, and it sounded so complicated he wasn't sure where to begin addressing it. Whatever was going on, it was distressing the Princess – ah. Hm. Perhaps that was part of the problem, thinking of her as “the Princess” first. He was confident that he didn't want the Princess – Minnie – to be sad, so he had to think of a way to change that. “When was the last time someone used your name? Besides the title, anyhow.”

The length it took for Minnie to reply answered the question before she actually said an answer. “I... I don't remember.”

“Well then. Would it be all right if I said it, from time to time? Maybe I don't know the real you now, but it's a start, don't you think? Little steps lead to big steps. And if there's anyone who knows about little steps, you're lookin' at him.” There was a momentary tightness in his chest, a worry that he had overstepped his bounds, but he didn't take it back. He'd done plenty of wrong things in the palace – sneaking around for the Lucky Hammer, accusing his friends – that doing the right thing, no matter the cost, was necessary.

“I...” The Princess – Minnie – started, and Mickey held his breath. “I think that would be all right. Clarabelle might have a fit if she overheard, though... so don't say it when she's around, okay?” Her voice was quieter now, but full of relief, of gratitude and perhaps a bit of awe.

“Okay!” Mickey burst out, and embarrassment swept over him again so hard it almost knocked him over. He cleared his throat, repeating “Okay.” in a more subdued tone, as if that would completely erase what he'd done. Minnie's giggle made it obvious it didn't. “All right. Minnie, then. I really do hope you feel better, Minnie.”

Minnie hadn't heard her name like that in so long, perhaps since her father died, so to hear it again made the night shadows seem all the brighter and less scary. “In that case, I think it would only be fair to call you Mickey, without the 'Sir'.”

“Sounds good to me. Not used to that 'Sir' stuff anyhow. Ain't done much to earn it, if you ask me. But I will someday, I'm sure of it.” And when that one action earned him that title in his heart, maybe it would wipe away all the guilt he felt. The same guilt reminded him he was trying to cheer up a girl he was also trying to steal from. He wasn't sure there could be a worse feeling than that.

“Of course you will, just as your father did.” Minnie had no idea the dagger she was sticking into his gut. “All the training and lessons your esteemed father must have given you have no doubt made you the perfect guard for the palace! I've felt much safer with you and your friends around.”

“Hmmm,” Mickey said once more, biting down on his lip. He wished to correct her, to inform her that Donald hadn't taught him one thing about the samurai swordsmanship, but he worried that by doing so it would snowball and he'd wind up telling her about his nightly sneaking. In trying to earn his family's honor, he'd instead become quite the cad.

“It's getting late,” Minnie reluctantly informed him. “I'm afraid I need my rest. I have a lot of meetings in the morning...but I really am glad you came by, Mickey. I hope you can do it again.”

“I think I might, Minnie.” It would be a good cover for his snooping around, but wouldn't that be taking advantage of Minnie's kindness? He truly was a cad! A horrible cad!

“Goodnight, Mickey.” Minnie leaned over, giving an affectionate tap on the top of Mickey's head – his entire body seized up, his tail sticking out – and with that same finger gently nudged him out of the room. He stumbled forward, and she slid the door behind him, humming a merry tune as she blew out the candles in her room.

Mickey rubbed the top of his head, not positive if he'd ever stop blushing. He did like Minnie, he was sure of it, and he was sure he had some idea of the “real” her, whatever that meant. When he did find the Lucky Hammer, he'd have to do something very big by way of apology. Yet for all the guilt that weighed on him, it wouldn't actually stop him from his ongoing search. Maybe there was a “real” him that would emerge once he was of normal size, and that version of him would be loved and admired by his father. He straightened his clothes, took one more glance back at the closed door, and went on his way. He still had no idea where the Lucky Hammer would be hidden in the palace, no clues to point him in any particular direction, but he was certain that one day he would cover very single inch of the palace.

There was one place, however, that he never thought of entering. It never crossed his mind, and he never would have thought of it...but someone else did. Someone who had been silently watching the entire meaningful conversation between the boy and girl.

Pete rubbed his hands together, still hidden in the darkness of night around the corner. He'd been ready to go out on his nightly trip to the garden, but who would've thought that his usual routine would be disturbed by such a unique yet useful piece of information? The spoiled brat and the tiny kid getting along...if he played his cards right, this could work out very well for him. It had been one of the few places he hadn't searched either, and he knew no matter how hard he tried, he'd never get inside. But maybe Mickey could – with the right prodding.

With a dark chuckle deep in his throat, he walked right into the garden, knowing what message to send out. His plans were going to change, but for the better. Maybe he could use those idiot friends of Mickey as well – everyone was a pawn in Pete's world, and this group had just become the most important ones. Maybe he'd even wind up thanking them, once he had what he wanted, and give them what they deserved – the mercy of a quick death.

~*~

The following day, Panchito faced the morning with renewed vigor and courage. He was going to talk to Jose today, learn under his tutelage, or at the very least speak in full sentences. Today was the day, and he kept repeating that over and over as he went through Pete's usual laborious “training” with his friends. They were afforded a lunch break, but instead of chowing down, Panchito sprinted to the very entrance of the castle, where he knew Jose was guarding today. Jose was leaning against the thick border that spread out across the palace gardens, stifling a yawn under his hand, otherwise tapping his foot to a tune only he heard.

Panchito swallowed, and braced himself. What was there to be so nervous about? All he had to do was ask to be taken as Jose's student. It was a completely normal thing to do from one person to another. There wasn't anything weird or humorous about this, despite all the looks Marsupilami had given him every time the subject came up.

The flowers in his hand were a little more difficult to rationalize. Maybe Jose liked them. Panchito hoped he liked them. Who said there was anything weird about giving a gift to someone you admired? There was nothing weird about this at all, so he needed to stop sweating so heavily. This was totally normal! After another hard swallow, he decided he'd come out and declare himself on three. One... two...

“Heyyy, ladies!” Jose suddenly straightened up, grinning wildly at a trio of giggling girls as they passed him by. “You're lucky it's not illegal to be so beautiful, otherwise you'd all be locked up for life!”

“I swear, Jose,” the eldest girl replied, trying to hide her smile, “Your lines are cornier than a farmer's crop.”

“I think he said something similar to my twin brother yesterday,” said the middle girl, rolling her eyes playfully.

“He's like the wind, our Jose,” said the youngest girl, shaking her head. “He can't ever stay in one place long! Y'know, pretty boy, maybe your come-ons would actually work if you stayed-on for once!”

Jose pretended he'd been wounded in the chest, slapping a hand to his heart. “And deny you all the privilege of my love? I'd never be so selfish! No, Jose Carioca can never be tied down! I dare say it's safer for everyone if I stayed single!” He would have gone on and on about his wonderful bachelor life, if he hadn't heard a soft _thud_ behind him. Panchito had fallen right on his face – hands still tightly tucked around the impromptu bouquet – but for once it wasn't because he had passed out. Jose cocked his head, and then knelt down to try and lightly hoist Panchito's head up by the comb atop his skull. “Panchito? Are you all right?”

“For reasons beyond me,” Panchito said, his eyes trying to focus, “my heart feels like it just got shattered into a thousand and one pieces. So, can't say that I am all right, no sir.”

“That's a pity. You look much more handsome with a smiling face. Now, let's get you up, and facing the day!” He hoisted his arms under Panchito's, and easily enough had him back on his feet, petals fluttering in the breeze. “Much better. What brings you here, my friend? Did you want to come guard the palace doors with me? I can't say it's terribly exciting, but the view is fantastic, eh?” He flashed another grin at the girls, who all giggled again collectively.

Panchito was certain the flowers he had obtained didn't contain any thorns, so why did he feel as if he'd been torn asunder over and over? “Is it true you can't commit?” he suddenly blurted out, having lose control of his words and his thoughts. “Not to anyone? Not even to a student?”

Jose blinked rapidly, wondering why this was so important. “Not to anyone,” he replied, oblivious to the agony in Panchito's paling face. “Never have, not since the day I hatched! Why, I was flirting before I could walk! I'd say after Oni-slaying, it's the thing I am best at.” The girls had stopped giggling, as they noticed and rapidly understood Panchito's expression more than Jose, and even Panchito, did. “To me, it's like having a favorite food... why have one, when there's so many out there I haven't even tried yet? Can't say I like commitment very much.”

“How do you know you don't like it if you never tried it?” Panchito shoved himself into Jose's face, unsure how to make Jose change his mind yet desperate to try. “Especially if a student is super devoted to you and wants to commit to you forever and ever?”

Jose rolled his eyes up, trying to give it some thought, not even having the faintest idea of why Panchito was going on about this. “Hmmm... I suppose it's the same way I know I wouldn't like sticking my head into a shark's mouth.” He then laughed, thinking this joke to be the funniest thing he ever said, but no one laughed with him. He looked back and forth between Panchito and the girls – the latter who were now glaring at him with the intensity of a hundred suns. “Uh, you see, it is because a shark's mouth... it's full of razor sharp teeth, yes? A very unpleasant place to be? Because it would kill you?” Still nothing. “Wow, my game is really off today.”

“Being my _senpai_ is not a game!” Panchito threw his flowers onto the ground, and then headed back inside the palace, sulking so heavily it wouldn't have surprised anyone to see a gray rainy cloud pop over his head. “Oh, just forget it... I'm clearly not exciting enough for you to be my _senpai_.”

Jose scratched his head, still confused over everything. “A shame to see such a nice face look so glum. What do you think got into – OW!”

All three girls had united in smacking their hands upside Jose's head so hard it had gone through his helmet, and shouted together, “ _JOSE NO BAKA!_ ” They then stuck their noses in the air and marched off, hissing and huffing about what an awful man he was, how rude, how insensitive, what a complete and utter idiot!

Jose readjusted his helmet, amazed at how bad his luck had turned all of a sudden. What had he done wrong? He'd been a flirt all his life, what was wrong with that? If Panchito tried, he could be a flirt too – a face like that and his cute personality, he could have anyone he wanted. He finally noticed the flowers strewn about the ground, and picked one up, rolling it in his fingers. At least the rooster wasn't passing out every time they made eye contact anymore. He was much better looking when he was conscious. And ever so loyally devoted to his friends! Not to mention he'd taken Jose's saving to heart, and become a proud samurai himself. Really, Panchito had become such a splendid young man, so for Jose to disappoint him somehow didn't seem very noble.

“I'll make it up to him,” Jose decided out loud, continuously twirling the flower in his fingers. “I just have to figure out how.”

~*~

Panchito wasn't paying attention to where he was going, with his head down and his mind far off in an imaginary place where the last couple of minutes never happened. This caused him to bump right into Pete's stomach, and he winced, expecting the older man to snap and growl at him. “I am very sorry, Sir Pete! Please don't make me run another fifty laps, I feel like I only just now stopped molting!”

But much to his surprise, Pete was smiling – he couldn't really recall the last time Pete had smiled since he first arrived with Mickey and their friends. “Aw, don't swear it! I just happened to overhear about you and Jose... it's a real shame, him treating you like that.”

Panchito's head sunk again as if it was as heavy as a bowling ball. “No, no... it's my own fault for having such high expectations.”

“Yeah sure whatever,” Pete tried to rush the conversation along to get to the good part. “Point is, it's not the end of the world! In fact, I've got an idea where not only can Jose get to know the real you, but you can also help out Mickey!”

While he didn't raise his head, Panchito did slowly glance up. “You know how to kill two birds with one stone?”

In hindsight, Panchito should have realized the difference between a smile and a cat-eating-the-canary grin. “What a perfect way of puttin' it.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete and Panchito put a plan into action to help Mickey achieve his dreams, with Mickey himself finding some extra dreams along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> Used an old storybit in here, I used to be so much funnier.

Precisely one day after Pete invited Panchito into his unique plan, Marsupilami was more than tempted to ditch his “newfound resolve”, but an equal balance of guilt-slinging and threats from Maurice convinced him otherwise. He was placed on “patrol” - walking all around the capitol to make sure everything was peaceful and taking out any danger. But in a city that was continuously peaceful, it really felt more like he was just stretching his legs. It would have been easy to merely walk and do nothing, as Marsupilami and Maurice had done most of their lives – grabbing what they could to eat, sleeping wherever a flat surface could be found, and moving on, moving on, moving on – but they were here to repay a debt to Mickey. That meant making an effort, although to what end Marsupilami wasn't sure.

Opportunity came accidentally knocking when he bumped shoulders with a passing villager, who politely excused himself, and then almost jumped out of his socks to see the lumbering Maurice at his side. “Don't mind him,” Marsupilami tried to calm the startled villager. “He looks like a mook, but he's more of a kook. We're the newest guards, sent from the royal palace!”

“Oh, so you are,” said the young man, a dark-haired horse who tried to awkwardly laugh to make up for his fright. “With that armor, what else could you be? We just don't see types like your friend around these parts...save for Pete, that is.”

How easy would it have been to say “Okay, goodbye” and resume laziness? Marsupilami wanted nothing more than to follow that instinct, but he surprised himself by staying put. “Actually,” he began, fingers fumbling as he tried to articulate something that had been bugging him for sometime. “You mind if I ask you about the great Sir Pete?”

“Not at all, go ahead.” The man replied, sticking his hands in his pockets, lightly chewing on a long piece of straw. “Name's Horace. I've been here all my life, I can tell you anything about anyone. I make it my business to stick my long face into everyone else's business. What do you want to know?”

“When we first started this gig, we heard he got accepted right after defeating a bunch of Oni at the front gate of the capital. Did anyone else besides Jose and Goofy see what happened?”

“Nope, it was just them two. But he was let in right after – oh, the whole capital was hootin' and hollerin' like it was New Year's Eve! He walked on in all mysterious like, covered in head-to-toe with a big ol' robe, you couldn't even see his face or his head! According to the guards, he beat back the Oni with his bare hands! Can you believe it, one ordinary man against five super-strong Oni?”

Oh, it sounded unbelievable all right. “Huh... and Pete's been on the job since? Is that why he came here in the first place?”

“Yes siree, it was like he was sent from the gods above! He said he came here to guard the Princess and the Lucky Hammer, and he wouldn't take no for an answer! Not that her highness was gunna tell someone like him no. He's been a loyal man to her ever since! Why, no one's ever seen him take off his armor! Not even when he sleeps!”

Marsupilami scratched his head, nudging his helmet a little – the darn thing was rather uncomfortable, so he couldn't imagine sleeping with it on. Maybe Pete's had gotten stuck that way, but given how much Pete loved to complain about this and that, surely they would've heard about it already. “What a guy...I'll let you go after one more question. Where is he from, anyhow?”

At that, Horace paused, searching his mind for anything he might've missed, and came up empty. “Huh...well. Here I am bragging about knowing everything about anyone, and I got nothin' for you. Pete's never talked about his past, not once. Anytime someone's asked, he's always got the same answer – 'mind your own business'. After a while people just decided to be grateful he was around and quit askin'. I'm sure he'll tell us all when he's good and ready.” He offered another shrug. “I got my own question now... why are you so curious about Sir Pete?”

The lie came without much thought. “Why, he's a great man I admire with all my heart, and I hope to be like him someday!” Funny how doing something that would help someone required great effort, but telling a falsehood was as easy as taking a nap. Motivation was still a new concept to Marsupilami, but he decided it wasn't as scary as he first thought. “If you'll excuse us, we should return to duty.” He and Maurice bowed politely, and walked on. Maurice cocked his head at his partner, clearly curious about the entire exchange.

“Something's not adding up,” Marsupilami answered, tapping his chin with both his finger and his tail. “If we want to help out Mickey, we need to figure out who we can really trust here, and if you ask me, Pete's not one of 'em. I got my hunches...maybe we're not cut out to be guards, but what's say you and me become detectives for a little while?” It would require more work – how dreadful! - but knowing it would help out the man who saved himself and Maurice made it bearable. Was this what it felt like, doing a hard day's work? How... new! And exciting! Maurice appeared to agree, given his grin and enthusiastic double thumbs up.

“I didn't expect any less from you, big guy. Next on our route... No one's seen any Oni around these parts for some time, but I need to learn all I can about them. And I might have an idea...but until we come across real clues, we don't tell Mickey, right?” Maurice nodded, miming a zipper motion across his mouth. “Good. Little guy's got enough on his plate already. We'll let him know what we know when we actually know something, y'know?” With the silent agreement in place, Marsupilami and Maurice headed further into the village, with an extra kick in their step. Maybe if this actually worked out for Mickey, they could give the whole “effort” thing a permanent part of their lives!

“C'mon, Maurice! The best ones to know Oni are the ones who used to fight 'em...we gotta find some retired samurai!”

~*~

As day was beginning to wear itself out and night was starting to welcome itself in, Mickey headed to the shared bedroom, ready to once again make a pretend effort to fall asleep before starting his search for the Lucky Hammer. He still hadn't found any clues, but ever since that late night chat with the Princess, it wasn't as depressing a thought as it was before – mostly because Minnie kept taking up his thoughts as if she owned the place. He often wondered what she was doing, if she was feeling better about her identity, and if he could get away with another secret talk with her. Since finding the Lucky Hammer could take years, maybe there could be years of talking with her as well. What a lovely thought.

But as soon as he entered the room, he found himself leaving it – via Pluto picking him up by the collar of his shirt. “H-Hey! Pluto! What are you doing?!”

Pluto walked out of the room and headed down the hallway, ignoring Mickey's flailing and protests. He only stopped when he spotted Pete, siting down on his hindquarters. “Good job, mutt!” Pete clapped laughed loudly before opening his hands up to take Mickey. “We needed you right away, kiddo!”

Mickey tried to wipe off the hints of dog slobber on his sleeves. “This had better be important!” he then stopped, and looked up. “Wait... Sir Pete? What're you doing here? Am I in trouble?”

“Trouble? Why would you think you were in any kind of trouble?”

How could Mickey reply without possibly getting into further trouble? “Well, sir, whenever you talk to me, it's either to give me an order, or yell at me, or yell orders at me.”

“That was then, and this is now, and now is a time for a golden opportunity!” Pete rushed through Mickey's words, trying to cut him off at the pass. “I've been watching you, boy, and your story really speaks to me! Why, when I realized you wanted the Lucky Hammer to be a normal size...” He sniffled, wiping away a tear that wasn't there. “It just about broke my heart!”

“You...didn't realize that was my goal the first time we met?” This was going to be an odd night all around, Mickey could tell.

Pete paused, and then cleared his throat. “Sometimes the heart takes a while to hear things before the ears do. Listen, the important thing is, I'm going to help you get the Lucky Hammer.”

Mickey wanted to be happy about this cooperation, he really did, but... “I appreciate that, sir, I truly do! But you don't know where it is either, right? And the only one Minnie – I mean, the Princess can talk to about the location is her husband. You were there when Goofy told us!”

“Don't go tellin' me things I already know!” Pete roared so loudly he nearly knocked Mickey out of his hands – he then stopped, and then cleared his throat again, this time straightening his back as much as his shapely body would allow. “I, uh, don't like dwellin' on the past, is all. What we need to focus on is your future! If you do what I say, then I can guarantee the Lucky Hammer will be yours.” In fact, Mickey's casual admittance of the Princess' name had sealed the deal for him.

Mickey tapped his foot, thinking this over. “Hmmm...well, gee...I guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.” Even if the horse had bad breath. Besides, it had to be better than sneaking around and trying to steal it – almost any plan had to be better than that! So without giving it any further thought, he allowed himself to be both hopeful and confident. “Okay, Sir Pete, I'm in! How do we start off?”

“I got our pal Panchito gettin' part one of the plan into action as we speak.” Pete replied as he began to walk with Mickey and Pluto tagging along. “Part two is all on you. You just need to go into the gardens, and follow your instincts.”

Mickey blinked, amazed at how quickly things had become confusing. “Huh? What am I supposed to do?”

“If I told you, they wouldn't be instincts, you dummy!” Pete snapped, fingers clutching in a visible effort not to squeeze Mickey like a stress toy. “Just...do what I say, and we'll all be happy! Now stay out in the gardens and don't come back until you get the answers!”

Mickey didn't bother to ask any more questions, mostly because he didn't want Pete to change his mind and swat him like a fly. Maybe if he tried thinking about this more positively. Sir Pete was older than him, therefore wiser, therefore he must know what he was doing. “If you say so...” He wondered what Panchito was doing, and tried to be confident about that as well – Mickey wasn't entirely sure about Pete's intentions, but he fully believed that Panchito was there to help Mickey out, so if Panchito was willing to work with Pete, all was well! What sort of brilliant plan had they come up with?

~*~

Once Panchito had been told about the plan, he jumped in with both feet, excited about the idea and having his own spin on it. Pete had merely nodded along in an effort to make it go faster, and now Panchito was hiding around the corner to the bedroom of the Princess, ready to put everything into action. He waited until he was sure Clarabelle had left, then began to inch towards the doorway. The plan would work, and Mickey would get the Lucky Hammer, and then Jose would be so impressed by Panchito's part of the plan he'd be completely devoted to being Panchito's _sensei_!

That part was... a little cloudy on Panchito's end, since he wasn't sure how it would impress Jose at all, but Pete had insisted it would. When Panchito questioned it, he got the same response as Mickey did – to just shut up and do as he was told. Okay then!

At the door, Panchito cleared his throat and then knocked shove-and-a-haircut, two bits. “Your Royal Highness, pardon the intrusion!”

Through the paper door he could make the faint shadow of Minnie lifting her head quizzically, before shuffling over to the door and opening it, blinking slowly before turning into the rigid, cold Princess she was supposed to be. “Sir Panchito. What has happened? Is it an emergency?”

“Not a matter of life and death, no, but a matter of heart and mind!” Panchito struck a fist to his chest. “Mickey wishes to speak to you in private!”

“Mickey wants to speak to me in private?” Minnie had repeated the request, confused, accidentally slipping back into her casual speech. “What do you mean? He can talk to me anytime he wants. He's a dear friend – that is, you all are.” She was quick to catch herself, and then tried to straighten out her entire body, trying to look as authoritative as possible – as much as one could when wearing adorable diminutive nightwear. It was even pink and frilly.

“No, no, good lady, this is a _very private_ talk he wants to have.” Panchito lowered his voice to a whisper, hoping to make her understand quickly before he was caught. “Mickey has some special things he wishes to tell you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, emphasizing each word by pressing his fingers together.

She'd yet to wash off the layers of make-up on her face, yet it was easy to tell the difference between the blush that was from powder, and the blush that came naturally. Minnie reddened and reddened more with every passing second. “Oh, my.” She finally said, eyes cast down demurely. “W-well...I suppose it would be rude to deny him such a request.” It was almost hard to hear her faint mumble, the cold front abandoned entirely. All of a sudden it didn't seem that important.

“Very good!” Panchito clapped his hands together. “He'll be waiting for you in the gardens! Don't keep him waiting!” Although he doubted she would, judging by that shy yet eager smile on her dainty lips. With part one completed, Panchito suddenly raced off to complete his next step.

~*~

And so Mickey went to the gardens, although he wondered why Pete had said “follow your instincts” as if he was going to run away at the last minute. He did his best to dismiss all his worries, and walked into the tall grass. Mickey wasn't sure where exactly he was supposed to meet Minnie, as the simple garden for her was an entire landscape for him, but as he walked deeper in he found a familiar clearing – the same spot where he first met Princess Minnie. But now it was covered in a thick, silk blanket, a golden candle-holder in the middle holding up two flickering red candles. Petals of various colors had been strewn about.

Mickey was immediately suspicious.

“Oh my goodness. Did you do all this?” came the sweet voice of the princess, who was now walking into sight. Instead of washing off her make-up and undoing her hair as she was supposed to before going to bed, she'd added on even more touches to her face and her hair was tied up in even more elegant curls. It was as if instead of donning the look a princess should have, she'd gone the extra mile to make sure she was looking as beautiful as she could make herself. She'd made an effort – which made Mickey's heart jump into his throat, until he realized what it was she'd asked.

“Uh,” Mickey struggled in his throat, looking around. “I guess? In a way?” This had to be Panchito's doing, but what the rooster was doing, Mickey couldn't guess.

“It's lovely,” Minnie smiled, sitting down on her knees and smoothing down her flowing robes, this one white with a pattern of red roses stitched on, creating the illusion that the petals were fluttering with every move she made. “I hope you didn't go to too much trouble.”

“It wasn't any trouble at all.” Literally. What was he getting into? “That's, uh, that's a nice kimono you got on. Ain't seen it before.”

“It's for special occasions,” Minnie replied, her eyes timidly turning away for a moment, hiding her lips behind her sleeve. Mickey's mind reeled - special occasion? Why was this a special occasion? Weren't they just there to talk? “I...I was told you have some special things you wanted to tell me.”

“Uhhh...?” Mickey stretched the word out as long as he could, trying to decipher whatever was being presented to him. As his eyes bounced all over, he noticed a rustling in a nearby cherry blossom tree. At first, worry seized his body, and he made a motion to grab the needle of a sword on his belt – was it one of the Oni King's minions?

Nope – it was Panchito, who now hung upside down from one the branches, holding up a long piece of paper with hastily written words. **Say “You're so beautiful!”**

Mickey blinked rapidly in honest confusion. “You're...so beautiful?” He said out loud, and it took him half a second to realize what he'd actually said and who he'd actually said it to.

Minnie giggled, oblivious to what was happening in the tree or the panic flowing through Mickey's head. “You're always so sweet, Mickey. I've had so many people give me compliments, but it's... just different coming from you. Like you see me as Minnie, and not just the princess.”

“Oh. Well. Um.” Mickey fumbled, trying not to watch Panchito write something else on a new layer of paper. “I think we'd be friends even if you weren't the princess. You've always been real nice to me.” Okay, so they were complimenting each other. It was nice, but how was this going to get the Lucky Hammer? Minnie wasn't going to reveal its location over idle flattery.

… Right?

“I feel the same way!” Minnie chirped, her enthusiasm growing while she lost some of her proper royal demeanor. “Size, titles, none of it matters. The friendship we have is so much stronger than that. You always know how to cheer me up, and make me feel like a real person.”

Did he really have such an influence over her? Mickey momentarily pushed aside the thoughts of the hammer, more than happy to indulge in this time of sweetness. “I only give as good as I get, Minnie! You make me feel ten feet tall! Everyone else always takes pity on me or tries to do things they think I can't do. But you let me try stuff. You let me...” Panchito was finished writing. “Um... You let me...”

Minnie waited patiently for him to finish the sentence, but Panchito had gone on a different tangent. **Say “I want to be with you!”**

Be with her? But he was with her already, they were right there, talking and -

And then the entire idea of the plan hit Mickey with the force of an exploding mountain. THIS was the plan to get the hammer?! He was supposed to – supposed to – _seduce the princess?!_ Was Panchito out of his mind?!

“Mickey?” Minnie asked gently, lowering her head slightly to get a better look at her companion. “Is everything all right?” The revelation of Panchito's plan had caused Mickey's entire face to go as red as the roses on Minnie's kimono, and his tiny body trembled with great force.

“No!” Mickey shouted, intending to tell Panchito before correcting himself. “I mean, yes! I mean, that is, uh, I, um...” He wanted to make plans to kill the rooster in his sleep, but this matter had to be resolved first. “I don't know what I was thinking.” He struggled to make his voice stern, hoping that he'd make himself clear to Panchito, who was now pointing at the same words over and over in an attempt to make Mickey say them. “I must have been thinking something crazy. I must have hit my head. I was thinking about things that would never, ever happen in a million years.” He finished with a curt glare to Panchito. The rooster stuck his tongue out.

Minnie's body sunk with every negative thought, oblivious to the plan being made and defied all around her. Had Mickey been paying better attention, he might have picked up that Minnie thought of him just as fondly as he thought of her – perhaps even more. It was why Panchito had been so confident of the entire idea in the first place – he'd noticed the wistful gazes Minnie had whenever she looked upon Mickey, the sheer delight in her voice whenever she spoke of him, and the daily excuses she thought up so she could spend more time at his side. Clearly Pete had noticed it too, since he'd help come up with this scheme. But being a princess, and a lady, it was only appropriate for the man to make the first move, so to speak.

Which wasn't all that helpful when the man in question had a mixture of self-loathing and obliviousness.

So in this moment when Minnie believed Mickey was giving up on telling her how he truly felt about her – which was what she had desperately hoped was the special thing he wanted to say – her heart felt as it'd begun to rip in two. Yet one of the things that had won Mickey over was that she didn't take things lying down. She did want to find out who she was, the real her, so she pushed away the thoughts of being a Princess and indulged in the thoughts of being Minnie. “I want to hear it!”

“Huh?” Mickey had been so caught up in telling Panchito off he'd forgotten Minnie was even part of this. “Hear what?”

“I want to hear what you were thinking.” Minnie placed her palms on the ground, lowering her head as much as her body was able. “I promise you, I'll listen to everything you have to say. You can trust me! Can't you?”

“O-Of course I can trust you!” Mickey stuttered, but to his relief Panchito appeared to have given up on that one train of thought, as he'd tossed the paper aside and was writing something else. “Minnie, I'd trust you with anythin'! But, well, there's just...somethin' weird goin' on, and...” Panchito was finished. Maybe, Mickey prayed, this was something far more reasonable.

**Say “I love you!”**

Panchito was a dead man. “...and some people have rocks for brains.”

“Mickey, please don't say that about yourself!” Minnie cupped her hands, which was the usual signal that meant Mickey was allowed to walk onto them.

“I wasn't.” Mickey muttered under his breath, seeing Panchito now writing something else.

“You're not dumb at all!” Minnie insisted, lifting Mickey up so they were closer together. “You've always been very clever! You always find your own way to fix things! I'd say you're smarter than every man in Japan put together!”

Mickey would have been immensely flattered by such words, but Panchito kept distracting him. Now the rooster was flinging several papers in a row, each suggestion worse than the last. Mickey could only hope his eyes were getting the message across.

 **Say “I wish I could take you into my arms!”**  
 _No!_  
 **Say “I wish I could kiss your lips!”**  
 _NO!_  
 **Say “I wish I could be at your side forever!”**  
 _PANCHITO PISTOLES FOR THE LOVE OF -_  

“I wish you could be at my side forever.”

“I AIN'T SAYIN' – what?” Hold on a second, that last one had been said out loud. Mickey abruptly paused, looking back at Minnie's face. His ears were big for his body, little for anyone else's, but they worked very well. He was certain she'd said something.

“You...you can stay here forever, with me,” Minnie was saying, her voice now as soft as the evening wind, one of the ribbons coming undone in her hair. She wished she could hide as she said this, but if Mickey wasn't going to make any moves, then it was up to her, no matter how embarrassing it got. “I know your size makes you so unhappy...but I'll do all in my power, every single day, to make you happy. I'll make up for all the happiness you ever deserved in life, and for the rest of our lives. If you'd allow me...I want to take care of you.” She closed her eyes, as if worn out by expressing her deepest desires.

Mickey was tempted to pinch his arm to see if this was a dream, but he convinced himself that if this was a dream, Panchito wouldn't have been it, especially not obnoxiously giving two thumbs up. Mickey's heart pounded in his chest, a hard drumming that he would've believed the entire kingdom could hear. There was no way Panchito's ridiculous idea had worked – so, somehow, someway, he must have stolen her heart before this night happened. How he did it, Mickey couldn't fathom or guess. Around Minnie he was simply Mickey – nothing more and nothing less.

And to be honest, he hadn't a clue about his future. He had refused to go home until he was of normal size, and if he wouldn't ever be normal sized, then where was he to go until the end of his days? A lump formed in Mickey's throat. He missed his parents deeply – but he also cared for Minnie deeply. The offer was more than tempting. He couldn't possibly give her what she deserved, yet she didn't care. It was a strange sort of happy mindboggling.

If he had nothing to lose anymore, then, well, why not?

“I like you,” Mickey blurted out, and regretted it only because of how childish it sounded. One didn't answer a potential confession with “like”. It was just the first words that popped into his head and had the power to leave his mouth. “I like you a lot.” As if that was any better! Then again, it wasn't as if he'd ever practiced or rehearsed for such a moment, since said moment had always bordered on the impossible in his mind. “You don't really...have to worry about all that happiness stuff. I'm happy enough when we're...together, y'know? Just being around you makes everything all better. So, you just be you, and I'll just be me. Like we've always done.”

It wasn't a wholly definitive answer, but they were both still young, and Minnie accepted he would need time to think it over. For now, she was greatly pleased by what she had heard. She lifted her hands up and kissed Mickey atop his head – it couldn't be said if her lips had knocked him over, or if Mickey was so struck with lovesick stupor that he fell onto his back. Either way, Minnie giggled, and Panchito believed his plan to be a surefire success. Wanting to give the young ones some peace and quiet, he swung from tree to tree like a monkey until he hit a window, wanting to find Pete and tell him the good news.

It was because of this he missed the other good news.

“You know...” Minnie said slowly, coming to a decision that was weighing less heavily on her with every passing second. “My father said I could only give the location of the Lucky Hammer to my husband.”

“A-huh.” Mickey wasn't paying that much attention, still gobsmacked in all the best ways over what just happened.

“So, in a way... you might be my husband some day!”

“A-huh.” His brain still wasn't firing off any synapses.

“Which means I could tell you where the Lucky Hammer is, and then if we ever get married, you can use it all you like!”

The usual “third time is the charm” gag didn't work this time, as Mickey popped back into reality with those words, sitting up so fast his tail smacked his back. “What?! Really?! You can tell me?”

“Being a good Princess means finding a solution when all hope is lost,” Minnie replied, smiling with a hint of pride. “And I know you won't tell anyone else. So as far as I'm concerned, it's as if I've never said it at all.” Satisfied with this loophole, she glanced around to make sure they were alone, and then leaned in to whisper into Mickey's big-little ear.

Mickey leaned in as best he could – for a good moment he thought she might kiss him again, and that thought nearly blocked out what she was actually saying – and when he heard the secret, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “There? It's hidden _there_? Why would...” But even as he said it, he knew the answer. No one would dare enter that place, or at the very least not without the Princess being there. It was perfect, and Mickey knew in that moment he'd never get near the Lucky Hammer – while he'd been worried about his morals dying a pitiful death, there was enough conviction left in him to know that was absolutely forbidden place. Why, it was safer than a vault with locks – this location was safeguarded by morals and decency!

“Well...it's a good spot.” Mickey concluded, and while he was disappointed that the Lucky Hammer was once again so close and yet so far, he was also relieved he'd no longer have to sneak around like some petty thief. Now he could live out his days and wait until...

…Suddenly he realized what he'd just agreed to.

“Once the Oni King is defeated,” Minnie continued, oblivious to Mickey's mind utterly collapsing, “I'm sure we'll both be ready to give marriage real thought! Won't that be nice? And by then, I'll be the sort of person that can be both a Princess, and myself. I'm sure of it.”

Mickey looked away, his cheeks apple red, but he found he didn't have the words to deny her – perhaps because a part of him didn't want to. “R-Right, of course. Might take a while... but, uh, I'm willin' to wait. We should probably get to know one another better and all that.” Perhaps when he next saw his father, not only would he be average-sized, but a husband, and the Princess' husband! Wouldn't that make him Emperor someday? If that didn't make his father proud, nothing would! Sure, it would be a lot of responsibility, but maybe defeating the Oni King would take years and years. By then, Mickey would know what it was like to be a good ruler – what a leap, to be a samurai without a master to co-ruler of all Japan! He began to smile without thinking about it.

“I can only imagine liking you more, the more I get to know you.” Minnie nodded with her own charming smile to match. “Like how I know you won't tell a soul what I told you. It'll be our secret, okay?”

Mickey placed a hand on his chest and bowed deeply. “Of course, Minnie. I promise, as your faithful guard and as a member of the Duck clan, I will never tell anyone where the Lucky Hammer is.” A promise made by a samurai – the second, he remembered, the first being the one he made to his father. He'd keep them both, and at long last, the guilt and worry he'd been carrying on his shoulders began to fall away. All was well, and he was truly happy.

The peach-sized man and the not-so-cold Princess talked for a long time in the gardens, honestly believing all their troubles were now far away and could be easily dealt with.

They were wrong, of course, but how were they to know?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when it seem Mickey was at peace, a fateful reunion may put the secret he vowed to keep in terrible danger.

Bright and early the next morning, it was clear that a few changes had taken place. Pete wasn't seen barking orders or shoving around the new guards – in fact, no one could recall seeing him for quite some time. Marsupilami and Maurice hadn't returned until late that night, and now that the sun had risen, they decided to take on the day with vigor knowing the information they held. They knew Mickey would be making his routine patrols around the palace, no doubt still angry and upset over his frustrations. That would be no more! No, Marsupilami would not let his friend wallow any further! So with sunlight basking over the capital, Marsupilami slammed the front doors of the palace open, Maurice right behind him. “Mickey! I know how you must be feeling, but starting now, things are going to be different, so you better pay attention!”

“G'morning!” Mickey chirped, one hundred and ten percent pleasant, as he used his needle-sword to take care of some weeds that had popped up around the gates. Pluto was with him, helping paw the dirt to help plant seeds, and his tail wagged, happy to see his master happy. “What can I pay attention to?”

Marsupilami paused, his finger and tail, which had both previously been in the air, starting to droop. “Uh... hang on, weren't you all mad and stuffy and cranky before?”

“What's to be mad about?” Mickey asked, twirling his makeshift weapon around like one would a baton when leading the happiest parade on earth. “It's a beautiful morning, there's peace in the capital, and I've got all my friends here!”

Marsupilami and Maurice exchanged a confused look, with Maurice merely shrugging his shoulders. “Didn't you say you were mad at us for not picking up the slack? Not that I'm complaining about you being all 'zippity doo dah', it's just...you kinda knocked the wind out of my sails here...”

“Aw, how could I ever be mad at my pals?” Mickey put a hand to his chest, sighing deeply. “It's thanks to you all that I'm here, and I can't imagine life being any better than it is now!” Of course his friends had no way of knowing that he'd gotten kinda-sorta-maybe engaged-to-be-engaged to Minnie, and he wasn't going to spill the beans right away. This was a private affair between a boy and a girl, after all! But the more he thought of it, the happier he was, and he made up his own tune as he continued to whack the weeds.

To Marsupilami, Mickey was riding the very fine line of being relieved Mickey was okay and Mickey's utter cheerfulness getting annoying. “Sooo...not feeling too bummed about being so short anymore?” Part of him was tempted to check Mickey's breakfast to see if someone had added something extra – how much booze could a little guy take before he got this plastered?

“Things won't stay the same forever, no sir!” Mickey waved Pluto down so the pup could lower his head and get some well-deserved ear scratches. “I just learned how to be patient, that's all! And the best things in life are worth the wait!” Like a beautiful girl on your arm – and at that point, with the Lucky Hammer as a pseudo-wedding present, he'd actually be able to have her on his arm!

“And the Oni King isn't that big a deal either?”

At that, Mickey's joy did take a minor break. He blinked slowly, startled he'd forgotten something so major. “Huh...well, no, of course he is. But!” He was eager to return to sheer enthusiasm. “One day he'll be gone too, so patience is our friend again!”

“Oh, he's gone all right.” Marsupilami cut him off, hoping to actually put the first time he ever worked hard into something meaningful. “Mickey, that's what I was all gung-ho to tell you about. The Oni King has gone into hiding!”

Again, this derailed Mickey's seemingly endless train of cheer. He faced Marsupilami, puzzlement clear on his little face. “What are you talking about?”

Finally! Marsupilami cleared his throat. “Well, when you rightfully pointed out how little we do, my esteemed associate and I-” Maurice thumped his chest with both fists, “took it upon ourselves to itch some scratches. Namely, solve a mystery, and rewrite history! We buckled down and did actual work for the first time in our short yet full lives, and-”

“Exactly how long does this go on for?” Mickey interrupted, raising his hand like a child in school.

Marsupilami huffed. “Fine, I'll skip the speech. What am I but the comic relief? Anyway, we found some of the former guards who used to work here and retired...they're still kept in the loop about palace workings, in case they ever need to take up the sword again. They told me that nobody's heard from the Oni King in months! In fact, it's been actual years since anybody in the capital's actually _seen_ the guy – he used to send his minions to do all his dirty work for him, but up until Pete gave a few ones a good thrashing, that stopped too!”

Stranger and stranger! Mickey cupped his chin in his hand, unsure what to do with this new information yet he knew it had to be vital. “Gosh, that's odd...but the Oni are still doing his work all around Japan! They had orders to attack my village straight from him!”

“We sure know it! The Princess is still getting asked to help people across the country, and it sure does sound like they're obeying his word. But no one else has seen him either, none of his lowlife lackeys have! How can they work for him if they don't know where he is?”

Mickey began to pace around in a circle, and Pluto watched him until he got dizzy. “Y'know... some of the Oni I encountered on my journey here? They didn't really want to do what the Oni King said, but felt like they had no choice. If the Oni King has vanished, how would he know if any of his men are slacking off? It's way more than paranoia, they have to be communicating somehow!”

“It's all hush-hush!” With that, Maurice made a zipper motion across his mouth. “The retired samurai told us not to tell any civilians, since they don't want to cause a panic. There has to be a reason the Oni King disappeared... it's not like he took any big losses, and last I checked, the war between us was still at a stalemate when he did vanish.”

“Hmmm...” Mickey crossed his arms, trying to dig through all the guesses in his head. It felt like the world's most complicated puzzle, and none of the pieces he had were fitting together. “Couldn't be an injury or sickness, could it? Pete joined the guards several months ago, he definitely would have healed up by then. So that leaves three big questions – Where is the Oni King? Why is he hiding? And how is he communicating with the other Oni?”

“Too bad we don't have a When, What, or Who, that'd really fill up a literary narrative.” Marsupilami quipped, and as always whenever he joked a little too close to the page, he got nothing but squints in return. “Nobody ever appreciates comedic genius. But if we could find the answers to these questions, maybe we could turn the tide in this war, and once the Oni King is defeated, the Princess wouldn't have a reason to hide the Lucky Hammer!”

“What makes you think we can solve this when no one else in the palace has?” Mickey pointed out.

“Cause they're not us! And we've got...” He counted on his fingers. “A guy who's been sheltered all his life, a mute gorilla, an abandoned dog, a rooster who is as oblivious as my tail is long, and me, a man who has only committed to one day of pure honest work.” That hung in the air for far longer than it should have. “Huh. When you put it out in the open like that, we may have a problem or six.”

It should have been a lot to worry about, and yet Mickey found himself still rather relaxed at the end of it all. “Aw gee, Marsupilami, I appreciate the help but... if there's nothin' we can really do about it, why worry? The Oni King will never get the Lucky Hammer, I can promise you that – especially if he never comes out of hiding, the big coward! And I'm willin' to wait as long as it takes for either him to show up or the Hammer to be in my hands!”

Marsupilami really doubted the Oni King was a coward, but right now, it was a better answer than having nothing at all. “Maybe he really is just a scaredy-cat.” He mused, a playful grin on his face. “Maybe he's hiding under his blankets and trembling in the dark! Just a big baby, whining and wailing about how scared he – OW!”

Maurice had been trying to mime Pete's arrival for a couple of seconds and had gone ignored, which was part of the reason Pete clocked Marsupilami upside the head with a closed fist. He was grinding his teeth so hard Mickey thought he saw bits of tooth falling out of his mouth. “Did we hire a guard or a comedian? GO CLEAN UP THE STABLES WITH YOUR BARE HANDS!”

Marsupilami rubbed his sore head, the bump there feeling so big he thought it'd never heal. “Sheesh, I'd say you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but do you even have a right side?” The answer to that was Pete grabbing Marsupilami by the tail, clutching his shoulder, and then spinning him fast enough that the jokester was tied up with his own tail.

Pete then tossed the tied-up bundle into Maurice's hands. “If I see either of you slouching for a second, I'll have you clean the castle floors with your own tongue! NOW BEAT IT!”

Maurice used one hand to slap it over Marsupilami's mouth to hide a quip, the other hand to carry him, and he ran off to do as he was told before they could land in further trouble. Pete inhaled very loudly through his nostrils, exhaled just the same, but when he turned to Mickey, he had on a gigantic smile. “Hey there, Mickey! How's it going?”

“It's... going... well...?” Mickey answered slowly, knowing the mood whiplash that occurred right in front of him probably didn't mean anything good. “And how are you...?”

“Oh, I'm swell, but more importantly, how were you things and the Princess last night?” Pete aired an elbow nudge and a wink-wink. “You get a little closer? You get a little nicer? You learn a thing or two about a thing or two?”

“Boy, did I ever.” Mickey mumbled a bit shyly, his cheeks reddening. He waved to Pluto again, this time climbing atop the pup's head so he could try to address Pete a bit more evenly. “At first, I thought the plan was crazy, but we got along real well, you could say! So I ought to thank you for it.” For all the embarrassment and mortification, Mickey couldn't say he regretted that night, nor would he have done anything different. He had the heart of the girl he liked, which made him feel ten feet tall, or what he assumed feeling ten feet tall felt like.

“You can do much more than that, old buddy old pal old friend of mine!” Pete got down on one knee, helping the conversation feel more level. “You can tell me where the Lucky Hammer is! So I – you can use it right away!” He then paused, only now realizing something. “Wait... if she told you where it is, how come you're still a pint-sized pipsqueak?”

Mickey found himself surprised as well, if only because of the gall of Pete's response. “Of course I'm not going to use it now! Sure, she told me, but I made a promise not tell anyone else. The only reason she told me is because I might...someday, sorta, might be her...y'know...husband.” Getting to the word had been a difficult hike, and he could feel his face flushing again. Saying it in his head was endless fun, but saying it to another person made him feel awkward. “A-anyway! If I used it now, why, it'd be like stealing from her.”

Pete's eyelid twitched, and a few veins began to rise up underneath his flesh. It was like it was taking every single shred of will-power not to lash out at Mickey, and even then, it was making him tremble with anger. “And...you're...okay with that? What if she doesn't marry you until she's old and gray? What if she meets someone else and changes her mind? YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHERE IT IS!”

Little by little, Mickey was starting to suspect Pete's good intentions towards last night's date. “A samurai never breaks a promise, you should know that better than anyone! I don't mind waiting as long as it takes. I trust the Princess, and she trusts me, and that's all I need.” That, and perhaps an escape route, judging from Pete's violent nose breathing. “I'm not telling anyone! C'mon, Pluto, why don't we patrol around the palace?”

Pluto yipped, and once Mickey had a good hold on his ears started to make a run for it. Pete reached up, grabbing his helmet, and yanking it down so he could scream into it until his lungs ached. He then pushed it back up, not once letting his head be uncovered, and started to chase after pup and master. “Mickey, hang on! I don't think you thought this through! MICKEY, YOU GOTTA LISTEN TO ME!”

There had to be something to make Mickey give up the secret, but for once, Pete was fresh out of ideas.

~*~

Panchito had been assigned to polish the armor and sharpen the swords, and he was working through them all very quickly. He wanted to know all about Mickey's progress, and hoped to see the results himself. The plan had been so brilliant, how could it not work? The two made for a very adorable couple, and Panchito wished them nothing but the best. He really did like Mickey, as his honest and earnest attitude was incredibly endearing. He couldn't even imagine Mickey hitting on a bunch of girls without caring about their feelings – unlike a certain parrot who just cared about his own fun. Not that Panchito cared.

Panchito didn't care that Jose loathed commitment and wouldn't even give it a chance, of course not, he thought to himself as he ran the sharpening sword across the length of the sword in his hand. He also didn't care that Jose probably felt the same way about Panchito that he did for every pretty face he came across. He really didn't care that he'd dedicated his life to learning under Jose and Jose didn't even bat an eyelash, look at how little he was caring! Not a single ounce of care to be found here! Jose could do whatever he wanted, it was his life, who was Panchito to want some of it, not that he didn't, because he didn't care, HE DIDN'T CARE ONE ITTY BITTY – _crack_!

Panchito looked down at the broken sword, wincing as he saw his reflection in the other half on the floor. “Maybe I need a break,” he said out loud, trying to scoot the broken piece under a rug. Yes, he needed some fresh air to clear his mind, to completely empty it of Jose. He wouldn't think of that troublesome man anymore, from here on out!

He left the storage room, turned a corner and - 

_Ka_ – An arm suddenly thrust out to his side - _be_ \- Panchito's back hit the wall – _don_! Revealing Jose calmly and casually pinning Panchito in place.

Reasonably enough, Panchito could now think of nothing but Jose, save for maybe why his heart was going into overdrive. If Jose knew what sort of internal fluttering he had caused, he said nothing of it. “Panchito, my good friend and fellow guard, may I have a moment of your time?”

At that moment Jose could have asked Panchito for a kidney and Panchito would have ripped it out. As it was, he mutely nodded, finding words difficult to find.

“Very good!” Jose chirped. “I have thought long and hard about what you said to me before, and how my behavior affected you. You asked me to be your _senpai_ , and that is a very serious thing, one I never should have taken lightly. I offer not only my apologies, but a way to make up for my grievances!”

“Okay,” was all Panchito could get out, half listening and half focusing on how close Jose's face was to his own. Here he had thought he'd gotten over his fainting spells, but consciousness threatened to leave when Jose took both his hands in his own.

“I know exactly what I need to do in order to make you happy, and so, as your _senpai_ , it is time I started behaving like one! Teaching you all that you need to know, and ensuring that my student - nay, my _kouhai_ , gets the best education I can provide! You'll be the only one I ever teach these things to, and I say we start right away!”

Had the divine heavens opened up, or was the choir of angels only in Panchito's head? “You mean it? You really want to be my _senpai_ , and just mine?”

“Yours and yours alone,” Jose answered, confident that he knew the key to unlocking Panchito's future happiness. “And the first step in doing so, in teaching you all I know... is how to land you a cute girlfriend!”

Nevermind, the divine heavens definitely hadn't opened up – or the angels had fallen into the fiery pity below. “Eh?”

“Every man is satisfied when there's a lovely face around!” Jose said with a laugh, shaking Panchito's hands up and down. “I'll give you all my flirting techniques! With your face and my tricks, you'll have your own share of lords and ladies to last you forever and a half! Maybe we could even go on double dates! Doesn't that sound great?”

There was only so much Panchito could take. Wordlessly, he slipped his hands out of Jose's, and turned to walk off, his body sagging as if he was carrying thirty bags of heavy rich across his back. Jose looked at his empty hands, his mind boggled at what had gone wrong. “Panchito? What's the matter?”

“What's the matter?” Panchito repeated, so lost in his heartbreak that he didn't hear the rapid footsteps approaching from further up in the hallway. “What's the matter?! Oooh, Jose Carioca, you really want to know what's the matter!” He whipped back around, every feather standing on end. “Then you had better listen and listen good, because this is the last time I'm ever going to tell you!”

Jose was very interested to know what it was Panchito had to say, and even more when the chance was denied, seeing as how Pluto, Mickey, and Pete had run him over.

“I'M NOT TELLIN' YOU, PETE!” Mickey hollered, not realizing who Pluto had pushed over.

“YOU SPILL YOUR GUTS OR I'LL DO IT FOR YOU!” Pete yelled right back, knowing full well who he ran over and not caring one iota.

Jose watched the two of them go in and out of several rooms as the chase went on, before quietly approaching the flattened rooster. “Boy, ever since you and your friends came here, things have certainly gotten more lively. By the way, I think it'd do us both a lot of good if you weren't knocked out.” He waited, but alas, Panchito was K.O.'d by something other than his own crazed emotions for once. “Another mystery for another day, I see.” He hoisted Panchito over his shoulder, and gently pat his back. “Okay, so flirting isn't for you. I don't see why, but I'm not going to give up. I'll find some way to be your _senpai_ properly and make you happy.” Of course it would be easier if Panchito had just up and told him, but what was life without some challenges along the way?

Speaking of challenges, what was going on with Pete and Mickey? He decided it would be a fine way to kill some time until Panchito woke up, so at a walking pace, he followed the two around, not letting go of Panchito for a moment. There was an idea of carrying him bridal style, but that came with the risk of Panchito waking up, seeing how he was being held, and fainting. Funny how Jose could guess Panchito's thinking so easily while knowing him for so little. They were certainly two of a kind, weren't they? This was why he felt confident he'd find Panchito's happiness.

Another person came across the great chase, but Goofy wasn't going to add onto the train. “Hey, fellas!” He called out as he watched them all go back and forth across hallways and rooms. “The Princess wants us all in the throne room for a big meetin'! … Fellas?” Not a single one of his words touched the intended, so it appeared he would have to do things the old fashioned way. He waited until Pluto was close enough, and then stuck out his leg.

Pluto tripped over his leg, causing Mickey to go flying onto the floor, with Pete also tripping and landing atop of Pluto. Jose managed to avoid the pile thanks to his leisurely pace. “There we go! Like I was sayin, we all gotta meet up in the throne room, okay?”

Pluto whined, managing to claw his way out from under Pete, his tail now so flat he doubted it would wag for days. Mickey dizzily sat up, unsure who to be mad at first. “A meeting? What for? Has something happened?”

“A retired samurai came to the capital just now,” Goofy answered, offering a hand to help Pete up, but it was slapped away. “And he says he needs help lookin' for someone. So the Princess wants us all to come meet him, so we can help find whoever it is. The more eyes we got searching, the bigger our chances will be, she figures.”

“We gotta waste time lookin' for some dope?” Pete growled, though his eyes remained on Mickey. “I don't have time for this!”

“Orders is orders,” Goofy replied, leading the charge with a one-two step. “C'mon, can't keep her waiting!”

Mickey chose to walk on his own two feet this time, though he could feel Pete's eyes burning holes through his skin. “Knock it off, Pete! No matter what you say or what you do, I will not tell you where the Lucky Hammer is! In fact, there is nothing and no one that could make me want to snatch it!”

Pete muttered a few threats and obscenities under his breath, but it was clear Mickey wasn't going to budge. The group gathered in front of the doors to the throne room, where Marsupilami and Maurice had been waiting and ready to thank whoever this mystery person was from preventing their stable duty. Goofy opened the doors, and all of the samurai automatically bowed. “Here we are, your highness!”

Minnie, all dressed up in her regal robes and with Clarabelle at her side, bowed her head in return, sitting atop the throne with her piercing cold stare. “It's good to see you all. As Goofy has no doubt told you, all of your help is needed for one of our own. Though they have long since stopped serving the royal family, we owe them a debt so great that helping them in return brings us much joy. Sir Mickey, no doubt you know them as Lord and Lady Duck-”

The next few seconds were a blur, as Mickey saw his mother and father, they saw him, Daisy screamed in joy and ran down to catch her son, bowling all of the samurai over, Donald tried to catch his wife and hoist her away, she kicked and hollered to be let go, and everyone was a rightly confused mess.

“What are you two doing here?” Mickey asked, having been seconds away from snatching, his eyes almost popping out at the sight of those he left behind.

“I could very well ask you the same thing!” Donald demanded, trying to keep Daisy from making a scene with his good arm.

“MY BAAAAAABYYYYY-”

“We've been looking all over for you! We thought all kinds of terrible things could've happened! That's why we came here to ask for help finding you!”

“MICKEYYYY, MOMMY'S SO HAPPYYYY-”

“So you better have a good reason for why you upset Daisy all this time! She's nearly molted over what you did!”

“PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN'T GET A GIRLFREIIIIIND-”

It's not like Mickey wasn't happy to see his family, because he was and he had missed them terribly. But he had vowed not to see them again until he was of proper size, so in a way, they were making him break that promise. That... and this was embarrassing on a number of levels, seeing as how everyone in the room was doing their best to avoid looking at the scene Daisy was making, complete with innocent whistling and thumb twiddling.

Mickey cleared his throat, hoping to capture control by any means necessary. “Well...I'm here, so you found me. I'm working as a samurai, protecting the Princess and the people of the capital! I'm here to become the sort of man you both can be proud of, so you can go home now and wait for that to happen.”

“GO HOME?!” Daisy had finally wrestled free of Donald's grip, her face soaked with tears of relief. “Without you? Absolutely not! We're all going home as a family, so things can go back to the way they used to be!”

Donald wasn't sure that exact line of thinking was what Mickey wanted to hear. “Besides, you're too small to be a samurai, you don't even know how to fight.”

“I've been learning!” Mickey countered. “Panchito's been teaching me all about swordsmanship, and...” As he glanced over at the unconscious rooster, he realized this was probably not the best time to introduce his friends. “Wow, this is just bad timing everywhere.”

“We appreciate your help, Princess,” Donald headed over to Mickey, intending to pick him up. “But we'll be going now.”

“No, _we_ won't!” Mickey snapped, growing more irritated the longer this lasted. “A samurai must never leave their master until they're officially dismissed, and I plan on working here for a long time!”

“You are not a samurai!” Donald barked right back. “You're just a little boy with a sewing needle!”

“Stop treating me like a child!”

“You are a child!”

“No, you made it very clear I'm not _your_ child!” Suddenly Mickey was filled with such white-hot anger that it was difficult to think of anything else but this anger, and things he'd held deep in his chest began to spill over, things he wasn't even aware he'd been holding back. “You said so yourself, I'm not part of your family! Ever since I came to your house, you never wanted me, so why should I believe you want me now? You only need me back because of Mother!”

It was impossible to pretend to ignore the conversation now, with all eyes staring accusingly at Donald, who could feel himself shrinking under their gazes. He nervously tugged at his collar, fully aware he had no rebuttal. “Well... um... w-when I said that, I was very angry...”

“I do need you back!” Daisy whined, trying to hold out her hands so Mickey would jump into them as he always did. “I've missed you so much! You have to come home and get out of danger!”

But this time Mickey didn't run into the loving embrace of his mother. “And do what, nothing for the rest of my days? You never let me help, you never let me outside, I might as well just be some stuffed doll to you! Both of you only cared about what you wanted, and never about what I wanted! I'm not going back just to make you both feel better! Like it or not, I'm an adult, and I'm going to make my own decisions! And one of those decisions is doing my job! Pluto!”

Pluto barked, and lowered his head for Mickey to climb on. If these people were enemies of his master, then they were Pluto's enemies too. Donald and Daisy protested loudly, he with angry demands and she with ear-shattering wailing, but the dog was much too quick for their nimble fingers, already bolting down the hallway. No matter how much he heard his name being shouted, Mickey wouldn't turn back for anything.

Donald and Daisy looked at each other, at a loss for what to do – in fact, almost everyone in the room weren't sure what to say in this extremely awkward moment. Even Minnie's usual icy exterior was melting under the heat of this pressure, using her trademark fan to cool herself down instead of hiding herself. This hadn't been how she intended to meet her future in-laws. “Um... well... until this is resolved... I'm sure we can find a place for you two to stay...?” Murmurs of agreement were echoed by all, along with shuffling of toes and clearing of throats.

The only one not so perturbed by the family drama was Pete, who cupped his chin and began to smile darkly. As far as he was concerned, things weren't so hopeless after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> Felt stupidly proud of a gag I did here. A few more chapters and we'll be done!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Mickey's parents come to terms with their sins, Mickey is tempted to create one of his own that may doom all of Japan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my amazing editor, Drucilla!
> 
> Apologies for the delay, life was deciding not to give me any peace and quiet for a while. This will probably be done in a chapter or two - but while I have your attention, you should know I'm planning to take a hiatus once this story is over. I feel like I've been making stories nonstop for several years, and as a result I'm feeling kinda drained, and my writing is suffering for it. I'd like to take a few months to recharge my batteries before I jump into my next project. It shouldn't be any longer than January/February. 
> 
> Thanks for understanding and sticking through for this crazy ride.

Given how impressively tall and expansive the palace was, finding a spare room for Donald and Daisy was as easy as turning the corner. They thanked the Princess profusely for her kindness, but once they were alone, husband and wife could feel themselves molting from stress. They sat opposite from each other on the floor, backs to one another, their bodies heavy with the words Mickey had thrust at them. Donald had, at least, expected Mickey to return for his mother's sake, but he hadn't realized the depth of Mickey's anger and feelings of betrayal. Now he was starting to wonder if Mickey ever would come home, and what kind of life they'd have without him.

“Am I a bad mother?” Daisy suddenly asked, breaking the silence so sharply Donald felt his heart seize up.

“What?” At first, the question didn't register.

“Am I a bad mother?” Daisy repeated, glancing back at Donald. “To have my baby feel that way about me...he always did complain about me not letting him out and around, but I thought he was acting like all children did.” Had she been so concerned about Mickey's safety that she never gave a thought to his happiness? The comment about Mickey being little more than a stuffed doll had done a number on her soul – looking back, what had Mickey been allowed to do? If he never talked back, he really would have been nothing more than a toy for her to play with, and that was no attitude for a mother to have. “Maybe the gods were right to make sure I never had a child...”

“Don't.” Donald reached out behind him, fumbling to take Daisy's hand. “You're not a...” The immediate thought was to deny all of Daisy's negativity, reassure her that was she was perfect and could do no wrong just so she wouldn't be upset. Yet as he looked back on their lives together, he knew it wasn't fixing things. He always did her best to make her stop crying that it never occurred to her that he should just _let_ her cry. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd shed tears himself, as such things were seen as weakness in a samurai. And who had told him that?

“Y'know,” he said again, eyes out on the nearby window, watching the sun crawl through the day. “My parents, Quackmore and Hortense Duck...they weren't perfect. I don't think a single day ever went by without them having an argument over something silly. Then they'd turn around and argue with me and Della, then me and Della would argue with each other. Despite all that, I wanted to be just like my father...a brave samurai who protected the people without a trace of fear. He's the one who trained me...he's the one who taught me how to bottle up everything I felt, so I could focus on my duties. If you don't show yourself how you feel, your enemies won't see it either.”

“That is _incredibly_ unhealthy, honey.”

“I didn't say it worked! You know my temper better than anyone. But my father didn't hate me or resent me, he thought he was doing what was best. And I think that's what you were doing too. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do...but you never did it with any anger or malice. You love Mickey, and he knows it. There's no such thing as a perfect parent. And a parent's role doesn't end just because your baby isn't a baby anymore.”

He could feel Daisy trembling in his grip, and though it pained his heart to hear his beloved cry, he didn't try to stop it. Slowly, gently, he moved around to hold her in his arms, allowing her to sob into his chest. Grief and relief were mixed together, and as she cried, Donald looked at his injured arm, the one that had made him retire early and settle down with his bride. Looking back, his father had never said a word about it – no lectures of disappointment, no mocking of his abilities. Even if Donald was no longer what Quackmore had expected, it didn't stop Quackmore from loving his son and treating him like a member of the family. Donald had always thought he'd be the same type of father when he and Daisy were trying for children. But as he watched Daisy's wailing turn into more calmed sniffles, he realized that no one really understood parenthood until they became a parent. It was like being in combat – for all the hopes, lectures and lessons, nothing could teach a person better than actual experience.

Daisy's sobs eventually turned into gentle breathes, and she wiped her face with her sleeve. “Is he... really happy here?”

“I'd ask him, but I doubt he's in the mood to talk. But... the fact he landed a job here says a lot, I think.” He supposed sharing a last name helped Mickey get his foot in the door, but to actually keep a person this small on the job? Mickey must have done something right, though he couldn't be sure what it was. “Maybe he just needs some space. When it's the right time, we'll talk to him and...I guess we'll just see where we go from there.” If Mickey wanted to stay, Donald wasn't going to force him otherwise, as much as he wanted to. Mickey was an adult, even if he didn't look it, and given how shoddily Donald had treated him, did he have any right to tell Mickey what to do and where to go?

“You know...” Daisy sat up straighter, looking her husband in the eye. “You said I love Mickey, and yes, I do, with all my heart. But I haven't heard you say you love him. Can we really talk to him about his place in the family if you can't say it?” She didn't want to voice her real fear – did Donald love Mickey at all?

It was a justified fear, as Donald's silence was deafening. His tongue moved in his mouth, trying to form an answer that his mind wouldn't make. Any parent should be able to say “Yes, I love my child” automatically, shouldn't they? But Donald had shunned Mickey for so long, treated him as a disappointment instead of a person, and refused to get to know him. Now he knew the boy, and Mickey was apparently capable of great things – a good heart, a clever mind, and a strong will. These were things to be proud of, things Donald was sure he hadn't passed on to him, Mickey had developed them all on his own. Come to think of it, Mickey had every right in the world to be the opposite, given his size – but instead of looking at the world with hate and sadness, he wore a smile and helped others despite his disadvantage.

There was shuffling at the doorway, and both ducks were momentarily startled, so wrapped up in their family drama that the outside world had ceased to exist. The noises got louder, and Daisy got to her feet, eager for a distraction. She slid open the door, and saw Clarabelle trying to lift a heavy box, having to stop every now and then due to its weight. She saw Pete as well, but he'd merely grabbed something from the box and dashed off before Clarabelle could admonish him. “What are you doing?” Daisy asked, tilting her head.

Clarabelle put the box down and wiped sweat from her forehead. “Oh, don't mind me! The Princess asked me to get rid of some things, and I'm doing it gladly! We'll be using this as kindling, maybe cook some sweet potatoes. I tell you, it's so gratifying to see her growing up!”

Daisy managed to take a peek at the inside of the boxes, which contained dozens of illustrated books. “Why is she getting rid of them?”

“She told me she doesn't need them anymore.” Granted, Minnie had decided to keep the first volume, “for the memories”, then decided she wanted to keep the volume that had the love confession, and the one with the special color illustrations, and then Clarabelle decided to quickly get to work before Minnie changed her mind altogether. “You know, she's started smiling a lot more since your son came to the palace. He's... not exactly who I'd choose, but I can't say I don't like him. A happy Princess makes for a happy land.”

Daisy was both pleased at her son making a genuine friend and terrified at the idea of losing her baby to a wedding. She shook her head, trying to stay grounded in reality. “Well, I can't just sit here and do nothing. Please, allow me to help!”

Given how many boxes and books were left in the Princess' room, Clarabelle was more than happy to have any help. “Sure thing! Just head out to the garden when you've got your hands full!”

Daisy glanced back at her husband, knowing he wouldn't be much help lifting heavy objects due to his injury, yet she was reluctant to leave him alone. “Is that all right, Donald?”

Donald nodded slowly. “Go ahead. I've got some thinking to do.” With permission granted, Daisy followed Clarabelle to the Princess' room. On his own, Donald began to pull out the sword on his belt, the one that had been handed down to him from his father, from his father, back many generations. Mickey would never be able to use it, but Donald could barely use it now. He stared at his reflection, unsure of the future.

~*~

It'd been several hours since Mickey had gone on “patrol”, but it really wound up with him storming up and down the hallways, so deep in his anger he wouldn't have actually noticed if an Oni had really shown up to cause trouble. Anger at his parents for embarrassing him in front of the Princess and his friends, anger at them for trying to control his life, but also anger at himself for lashing out at them. Though he wouldn't take back what he said exactly, there probably had been gentler ways to go about it. He wanted to go back to Donald and Daisy and see if they were all right, but pride wouldn't allow him. After a while, he asked Pluto to stop so he could hop onto a windowsill and collect himself. His three-pronged headaches were making an annoying return.

He had always assumed that if he was bigger, that would automatically make things better with his family. His mother would stop babying him and Donald would accept him as a son. Yet now doubts were starting to creep in on his plan – Minnie and his friends liked Mickey exactly the way he was, so why couldn't his parents? Maybe talking to Minnie would make him feel better. Talking to her always seemed to make him feel better, and his tail began to swish around just by her mere presence in his mind. She liked him just the way he was, yes, that was why he didn't mind waiting for his size to change.

“There you are!” Pete's voice came from behind, surprising Mickey so much he almost fell out of the window. “I've been looking all over for you, kiddo!”

Mickey stood up, brushing himself down, the sun starting to set behind him. “What for? It's not about the Lucky Hammer again, is it?”

“Nooooo.” With every “o”, Mickey believed him less and less. “I just wanted to see how you were doing, pal! Seemed like you were having a rough time with your folks.”

It wasn't like Pete to care, but at the same time, Mickey did want to vent out his struggles. “They just don't understand what I've been going through. Why, they're the reason I came here in the first place. I can't go back with them when I haven't accomplished anything.”

“Right, right! Why, you've got a whole life here you've made for yourself!” Pete replied, hiding something behind his back. “You've become a real samurai, you've got those weird friends of yours, not to mention the Princess is fawning all over you.”

Mickey felt his face grow hot, and he sheepishly looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Aw, I – I dunno if I'd say _fawning_...” Though he did like the sound of it. No matter the problems with his parents, at least he could turn to her. He did have Pete to thank for the relationship upgrade, so maybe the big guy wasn't so bad, rude as he was.

“I sure would! Fawning's a pretty good word for what she does over you. Who cares that your old man never wanted you around? I say, good riddance to bad rubbish. The Princess, now she wants you! You're just the man she's been looking for!”

In hindsight, Mickey should have been terribly suspicious about this set-up, but Pete was saying what Mickey wanted to hear. Donald wouldn't accept him until he was taller, but Minnie wanted him here and now. He decided to bask in the compliments, beaming, crossing his arms and holding his head high. “Is that right? You really think so?”

“Of course I'm right!” Pete was smiling, but it wasn't a friendly smile. It was more like the way a snake sizes up its meal before going in for the gulp. “After all, you're exactly like the guy she _actually_ wanted in the first place!”

Just as Pete had planned, the look of confusion struck instantly – Mickey blinked rapidly, unsure if he heard right. Even Pluto was cocking his head, making whining sounds of distrust. Pete let the sentence hang awkwardly in the air, allowing Mickey plenty of time to let his own doubts and self-loathing begin to rise up once more. “Wh...what are you talking about?”

“She didn't tell you?” Pete asked in mock surprise before whipping out the book he'd been hiding. “Funny, I thought she'd show you right away, seeing how much you look like her hero.” He licked his thumb, going through the pages until he found the right image. “Little lady's obsessed with this fake samurai, you can ask anyone who works here, they'll tell you the same! She wouldn't marry anyone unless they're just like him! And, wouldn't you know it...” He then turned the book around, showing Mickey a full color display of Sir Sakura – who for all the world looked exactly like Mickey, save for a few creative differences. “One day, he waltzes right into the palace! She must have thought it was a dream come true!”

Being as small as a peach pit for all his life, Mickey had no idea what a punch to the stomach really felt like – but perhaps this came close enough. He stared so deeply at the illustration that it was if he forgot how to blink. It was like looking into a bizarre mirror, and there was no mental loophole he could devise to get around it. Pete wouldn't tell a lie that would be easily corrected by asking around – who would? Mickey's shoulders began to sink, as did his heart. “She... she... she thinks I'm... this guy?” He asked softly, praying that Pete would tell him no, that somehow this was all made-up as part of a sadistic prank.

“Why else would she have you around?” Pete answered, his smile widening as he stabbed the knife deeper into Mickey's heart, twisting it around and watching Mickey's face crumbling in sheer agony. “Look at you, you're tiny! You couldn't protect a fly from a spider! You're a mama's boy who never learned how the world works! But, hey, you got a free ride to be Emperor, just because you look like a drawing! I say you hit the jackpot. No matter what you do, as long as you look like this guy, she'll want to be around you. Isn't that great?”

Now Mickey was afraid that if and when he finally did blink, he'd start to cry. Had Minnie only wanted him around because he looked like a man who didn't even exist? In a sick way, it was like his mother – who hadn't wanted him, but a little toy to coo and fuss over. He really did like talking with Minnie – had anything on her end been the truth? He wanted so desperately to believe it, but years of shame for being himself was stronger. Pluto whined, trying to reach up to push his nose in an affectionate nuzzle to Mickey's body, but Pete got in the way. “Hey, what's the long face for?” he asked as he tossed the book over his shoulder. “There's no use in getting upset over things you can't change. I mean, if there was some way to make people notice the real you, by taking away what made you different...”

And again, just as Pete had planned it, the nugget of an idea had been planted. Mickey began to lift his head up, the temptation hanging right above him. “Taking away what makes me different? What do you mean?”

“Well, just supposing...” Pete waved his hand, pretending this was all being made up on the spot. “If you were, I dunno, normal sized... people would have to get to know the real you, instead of making up assumptions about your size. Your mama wouldn't treat you like a doll, your daddy might call you his son, and who knows, maybe the Princess would actually see you, instead of someone the size of a page.” With the bait set, now it was only a matter of waiting.

Mickey's fists clenched up. Part of him knew exactly what Pete was saying, and what Pete was planning. It was cruel and manipulative – and it was working. He never asked to be this size, and yet all his life the only people he knew had forced their own ideas onto him. Now the girl he loved was doing the same. What was so wrong with being Mickey? Why couldn't they even attempt to see him? He swallowed hard, his throat feeling tight. “I... she... I promised Minnie... the Lucky Hammer not supposed to be used until we're married. And she promised her father... not to tell anyone where it was except for her husband.”

“But can you really be called her husband if she doesn't like you, but a made-up version of you?” Pete's smile hadn't left his face once. He enjoyed having painful power over people, and he missed being able to do this on the daily to his minions. Soon, that would all change, and he'd have an entire land of minions to boss around. In this moment, he felt extremely powerful. “In that case, I'd say she already broke her promise to her old man. Only fair for you to break it too. Whaddya say? Why don't you change your future, instead of waiting around for it?”

On this end, Mickey felt powerless. Save for breaking this bond of trust, there was nothing he could do to change his parent's mind or prove himself to Minnie. Would it really be so bad to be normal? He was only going to use it once. The headache was now so strong, he could feel them as if they were ready to stab through his skin, which made have made his anger and resentment worse. He exhaled deeply, and then commanded his dog, “Pluto, c'mere.”

Pluto whined, not liking where this was going, but he obediently pushed his head in so Mickey could climb on. “We're going to the Princess' room.”

“It's in her room?” Pete repeated, the smug smile finally taken off his face. Naturally, the one place a man wouldn't be allowed to enter! “Why that rotten little...” he grumbled a series of expletives that thankfully Mickey was too far away to hear. He then followed after Pluto quickly, shoving down his anger into his gut. There was no time to be angry – he had to make sure the Princess wasn't actually in her room. Gods forbid if she and Mickey actually had a healthy conversation to settle things, that would ruin the whole plan!

Coincidence after coincidence aided Pete – Minnie hadn't wanted her servants to do all the work (nor get rid of her favorite volumes) so she wound up trying to lug boxes with the rest of them. Pete, Pluto and Mickey poked their heads around the corner to see Minnie, Panchito and Jose – the birds doing their absolute best not to look at each other – lugging more boxes out into the hallway. No doubt they would all return for more, so they only had one chance to pull this off. They waited until they could no longer see Minnie, before tip-toeing to the room and carefully sliding the door open, not wanting to make a peep.

The sight of all those books that were still around made Mickey's stomach queasy – without realizing she'd gotten rid of most of them. Combined with the guilt of the promise being broken, and being in a girl's room without permission, it was taking every ounce of strength for Mickey not to upchuck.

“Where is it, where is it, where is it?” Pete hissed in a whisper – the closer he was getting to his goal, the more impatient he became.

Mickey slid off of Pluto's head, bouncing once on the floor before walking upright. “She said it's right... here.” He headed for the most obvious place in the room where any young girl would hide something important, a place so obvious that most people would have dismissed the idea since it was too obvious.

Which was why Mickey was scooting right under Minnie's bed.

Pete stared at the Princess' bed, covered in lace and satin and books, and slapped both of his hands to his face. It kept him from screaming swears to high heaven, and he thought that if this was the Emperor's idea, he wished the old man would come back to life so Pete could personally kill him. He pulled his face down hard, teeth gnashing, trying to control himself again. He was so close, he couldn't blow it now just because the Emperor was perhaps the dumbest person who had ever lived – or who had been such an overbearing parent that he thought keeping a powerful object underneath his daughter's bed would keep her from marrying ill suitors. Either way, he never thought he'd hate a corpse so much.

Still, there was only so much of his temper he could control, and instead of waiting for Mickey to pull out the Lucky Hammer, he reached over and grabbed the edge of the bed with one hand, leaning it over to one side with a _crrrreaaaak_. Mickey jumped a bit at this display of strength, but in a funny way found it comforting – Pete was already so big and strong, so he'd have no use for the Lucky Hammer himself, right? Surely he'd just come along for moral support in case Mickey chickened out.

As for the hammer itself?

It was certainly large, the head being wider and bigger than the handle, all of it golden and sparkling. Decorative wooden flames had been placed on both sides, along with a snake-like pattern curling around the hammer. At first Mickey thought the candles in the room were giving the Lucky Hammer wonderful glow, but upon closer inspection, the glow was coming from the hammer itself. It pulsated almost like a human heart, but in a soft and warm way, as if trying to assure all around that everything was okay. Just being near the divine weapon made Mickey feel a little light-headed, but he shook the feeling away with one hard nod of his head. Even though the Hammer obviously hadn't been touched in ages, there wasn't any trace of dust, rust or any sign that time had passed. It was as immortal as the gods, and Mickey momentarily felt very unworthy of it. Slowly, delicately, he walked toward the hammer, and lightly touched the handle.

He felt a pleasant spark ride through his hand, like a first kiss or the thrill of a fought victory. His heart began to beat harder than before, but through all this excitement, one important question remained. “How do I use it?” He asked Pete, his fingers twitching nervously. Mickey couldn't even make his fingers reach all around the handle, it was bigger than he was, like many things in life. The stories he heard merely said the Lucky Hammer made things bigger or smaller – _how_ had never come up. What an awful time to realize such a thing! “Hm... well, hammers are usually for hitting things... am I supposed to hit myself with it?” Aside from being physically impossible, that would hurt like the dickens.

“All you have to do is shake it three times to change your size,” said Pete rather matter-of-factly.

“Oh, that's a relief.” Similarly, it took Mickey three seconds to realize another issue. “Wait, why do you know that?”

“You think I'd try stealing it for so long without making sure I knew how to use it?” Again, he enjoyed the dawning look of horrified realization on Mickey's face, and enjoyed it further when he reached down to yank the Lucky Hammer in his hands. “Man, oh man, I was sick of leaving those smoke messages to all those idiots across Japan. I heard some of them even thought about laying down their arms and giving up to live peacefully! They'll be the first ones I get rid of under my new rule!”

Pluto began to growl, standing in front of his gobsmacked master. Mickey began to shake, hoping any second now he'd wake up from this nightmare. “P-Pete... that was you, every night? Setting those fires, climbing up the palace? You were sending messages? To who?” Yet even as he asked, he had a terrible feeling he already knew, and that his selfishness had sealed the fate of Japan.

“Where are my manners?” Pete answered with a loud laugh, now no longer caring who heard him. He tossed the bed into a corner, and it crashed so hard it split in two, sending mountains of books to the floor. Mickey yelped, and Pluto grabbed him with his teeth, hoisting him onto his back before his master could be flattened. “I never introduced my real self, did I? But since you did me the great favor of getting me the Lucky Hammer, I think I owe you at least that!” He reached up to his head, and began to yank off his helmet. “I can finally take this cruddy thing off... you have any idea what it feels like to wear a helmet for years, as you sleep and bathe?” But he had a good reason why he never took it off – once it popped off, it revealed two garish horns sticking out of his forehead.

“Y-Y-You're an Oni!” Mickey sputtered, trying to pull out his needle sword, the makeshift weapon almost falling out of his hands due to his nerves.

“I ain't no ordinary Oni!” Pete shook the hammer once. “You're looking at the greatest, strongest, mightiest Oni there ever was!” He shook it twice.

“My pal, Mickey... I am THE ONI KING!”

With one last shake, Pete took on the same golden glow as the hammer, yellow and green mist encircling his entire body. He began to laugh, a horrendously strong belly laugh that grew louder as he grew taller – taller – _taller_ – not stopping as his head hit the ceiling, not as his shoulders began destroying rooftops, as his elbows broke windows. Pluto ran as fast as he could as the bedroom began to rip apart all around them, the screams of scared servants echoing all across the dying palace. Mickey was afraid to even glance behind him to see the destruction Pete was leaving by him merely standing there, his laughter now reaching all across the kingdom, villagers rushing out of their homes as they felt the very earth shake.

Outside, the trees from the gardens began to topple over, the fence bending before breaking off and shooting off dangerous splinters across the air. Everyone within the palace had managed to make it out, although many were suffering from wounds and marks from the collapsing rooms. Donald held onto his wife, Clarabelle fainted into Goofy's arms, and the remaining samurai surrounded the devastated Princess, who watched Pete continue to grow, her mouth open but no words leaving her. Within seconds, the sun was blocked out, Pete's shadow encasing the entire kingdom in darkness.

And there Mickey stood, among his friends and family, watching Pete - the Oni King - take in his glory, feeling smaller than ever before.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Oni King casts a dark shadow over all of Japan, Mickey takes one last heroic stand, finally becoming his father's son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to my editor Drucilla, who has been my life saver again and again.
> 
> This last chapter took me a while as there were several plot points I had difficulty wrapping up, and while it's a rushed production, I'd rather it have it be finished than left dangling.
> 
> I believe I said it before, but just to reiterate - I'll be taking a story hiatus from now until Jan/Feb. I feel my writing juices have been drained and I need a break so I can do proper justice to the tales in my head, and proper justice to all my loyal fans. Speaking of!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read this silly little story, to all who commented, reblogged, etc, you guys are a big reason why I do this. When I return, I hope to be better than before. This isn't a complete "see you later" - if inspiration strikes, I may do the occasional drabble and upload it, but we'll see what the future holds.
> 
> Once more! Thank you very much, and I hope you enjoy the final chapter!

Fear and surprise can do wonders to the rational mind. Looking outside of the situation, one would think the obvious thing to do when seeing a maniacal rapidly growing Oni is run in the opposite direction and never look back. To be entirely fair, several of the villagers did exactly that. But the majority of the kingdom, especially those who had previously been inside the palace, could do little more than gawk at who had been one of their most trusted guards.

“I quit,” Marsupilami said while raising his hand and tail.

“How could this have happened?!” Clarabelle was close to having her legs give way, her arms tightly around Minnie. “To think that Pete would use the Lucky Hammer...!”

“How could he do such a thing?” Jose lamented, hand on his heart. “Why, he's never been anything but rude, mean, judgmental, selfish, lazy...” He stopped to click his tongue. “Huh. Hindsight is not a pleasant thing.”

“How did he even know where to find it anyway?” Donald pointed out, keeping Daisy behind him as if that would protect her from Pete's wrath – although all he was doing at the moment was continue to laugh in victory. “It's supposed to be hidden away in a secret location!”

“I only ever told Sir Mickey where it was!” Minnie answered, and automatically everyone's heads shot to little Mickey atop Pluto's head.

Once upon a time, Mickey noted that being small was almost like being invisible. Now he realized this wasn't true at all, because even when he did try looking away, he could feel everyone's eyes on him. He knew he should apologize, perhaps try to explain why he'd done it, but the words were hollow and dry in his throat. Saying the right thing wasn't going to fix the problem they were in now. He clenched his fists, eyes on the ground, head lowered shamefully.

“Oh, Mickey,” Daisy broke the uncomfortable silence, voicing everyone's thoughts at once. Pity was evident in her voice, and Mickey nearly would have preferred their anger.

“We can chastise Mickey's actions later!” Panchito declared, stepping forward and unsheathing his blade. “Right now, we literally have a bigger problem! We have to stop Pete from taking over all of Japan with his size!”

“But how do we do that?” Goofy asked, holding his own sword to his chest like a child's teddy bear, full of fright. “One wrong move, and he could stomp us flat!”

Pete let out another belly laugh, sending shockwaves of sound throughout the kingdom. “ALL ONI, ASSEMBLE AT THE CAPITAL AT ONCE! WE'LL MAKE THIS PLACE OUR NEW HEADQUARTERS, AND ALL THE PEOPLE HERE OUR SLAVES!”

Jose whipped out his own sword, ready to do battle. “We'll never submit to you, Pete!”

“LET IT BE KNOWN THAT FROM NOW ON, EVERYONE WILL CALL ME THE GREAT ONI KING!”

“I'll call you a great palooka, and nothing else!” Donald snapped, fingers trembling but ready to fight as well. At this, Mickey began to notice something, lifting his head and raising an eyebrow.

“ALL ONI WHO REFUSE TO DO AS I SAY WILL SUFFER THE SAME AS THE MORTALS! ANYONE WHO DISOBEYS, DIES!”

This “back and forth” between the small and tall could have gone on for some time if Mickey hadn't snapped his fingers to try and get everyone's attention. “Y'know, sometimes I have to shout in order for people to hear me, cause I'm so small. So...” To test out his theory, he rather calmly began to say, “Boy, Pete, one of the worst parts about this is now that you're bigger, everyone can smell how badly you reek!”

Mild panic broke out among friends and family, thinking Pete would stomp down in revenge, but Mickey held out his hand, signaling them to wait and watch.

“AND NOW THAT I'VE TAKEN OVER ALL OF JAPAN, WHY STOP THERE? THE WHOLE WORLD WILL BE MINE!”

Mickey then held out his hands again, in a light “ta-da” gesture. “I don't think he can hear any of us.”

“Huh. How about that?” Donald put a hand above his eyes to try and see where Pete's head actually ended. “We could plot a whole take-down right in front of him and he'd never know.”

“You guys have fun coming up with that.” Marsupilami tried to turn tail and run, but Maurice merely grabbed his tail and kept him in place. “Hey, cowards have common sense! How are we supposed to take down a guy as tall as a mountain?”

“Dear friend Mickey defeated Maurice, did he not?” Panchito reminded them.

“It's our 'dear friend Mickey' who put us in this mess to begin with!” Clarabelle snapped, hands on her hips. “If he'd never come to the palace, this never would have happened!”

“He only came to the palace because Donald said an awful thing to him!” Daisy fought back, fists balling up.

“So you're saying this is my fault?!” Donald gawked.

“It's somebody's fault!”  
“It's Mickey's fault!”  
“He didn't mean it!”  
“I say it's the Emperor's fault!”  
“How can you blame a dead man?!”  
“We never should have trusted the original Oni King!”

On and on the arguments circled, with Mickey staying silent, knowing that getting involved would only make things worse. Yet he couldn't think of a way to make it stop without the flaring tempers only burning hotter. He was starting to get one of his big headaches again, worse than even before. How could they take down Pete if they couldn't even agree on who to blame? Even if they did, they were all ants compared to Pete's height – he might not even feel their blades on his skin, just something close to a mosquito bite. He couldn't be reasoned with, and the only thing he wanted was more power. 

It was then that Pete accidentally did them all a favor, distracting them from their arguments by taking one step forward – it was enough to shake the earth and remind them all that being so close was being closer to death.

“Run!” It was not something that really needed to be said, but Mickey said it anyway, as one does in these rare type of situations. No one was sure where they could run to, as Pete could catch up to them without much effort, but they all began to jolt as far away and as fast away as their feet could take them.

Pete, for his part, had run out of evil things to say, and only now remembered where he was. He looked down, though he had to squint to see the specs of people on the ground. “WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, PRINCESS? I CAN'T BE EMPEROR UNLESS YOU GET HITCHED, HUH? LET'S SEE ABOUT THAT!” With another great, wicked laugh, Pete began to walk forward, enjoying the feel of the earth moving beneath him. This joy lasted for a very long five seconds, as in the next step he wound up planting his foot into a small building – given how tightly packed the capitol was, he didn't have much of a choice.

But being tall didn't make him impervious to pain. “OWWWW!” He held his leg, which was cut up by walls and ceilings. “THAT SMARTS AND... AW NO, THAT WAS MY FAVORITE SUSHI PLACE! WHERE ELSE AM I GOING TO GET MAKI ROLLS AT THREE A.M.?” He tried to back up, but that made him collide into a taller building, which made him wobble and sit upon a third building – his howl as he clutched his rump was loud enough to part the very heavens. “OW OW OW OW! AH, CRIMINY! I'M GUNNA WIND UP DESTROYING THIS PLACE BEFORE I CAN RULE OVER IT!”

He tried to stand up straight, dusting off bits of city block from his armor. “OKAY, EASY DOES IT...” Surely he was still intimidating even though he was tip-toeing through the capital, he told himself. As it was, he was doing the heroes another favor, as this method of walking made him much, much slower.

The small group made it to the gates of the capital, as terrified villagers continued to flee. But Minnie wouldn't move another step. “I cannot and will not abandon my people!”

“They don't seem to have a problem abandoning you,” Clarabelle pointed out as people ran past them. “Besides, if we stay here, the Oni he called will wind up at the gates, and then we'll be stuck between a rock and a very, very, very hard place!”

“You women ought to get out of here,” Donald decided, eyes on Pete. “As samurai, it is our duty to take on this menace and protect you.”

“Donald, you can't be serious!” Daisy grabbed her husband's good arm. “You're in no condition to fight, and you can't possibly win!”

“But what about all the people across Japan?” Panchito could feel his head spinning. “At least before, some Oni were willing to live and let live...but now they'll all be forced to take over the remaining villages, and Japan will be completely conquered! If we don't stop him here and now, this might as well be called Oni Land!”

“If we must die, we'll die with honor!” Jose gripped his fist. “I would proudly die if it meant my last stand was against such an evil foe, defending my home and my people!”

“Speak for yourself, bub.” Marsupilami held out his hands, with Maurice copying. “I just discovered the joy of doing a hard day's work, and now I have to die for it? That just sounds like another way of giving up!”

Goofy didn't have much to add, twisting his hands and looking around at everyone, until his eyes fell on Mickey. Mickey was watching Pete very seriously his chin cupped, eyebrow raised. Goofy never considered himself an intelligent man, but he knew a plan in mind when he saw one. He knelt down beside Pluto in order to somewhat-meet Mickey at eye level. “What are you thinking?”

Mickey glanced over at Goofy, then back to Pete. “Where'd the Lucky Hammer go?”

Goofy blinked thrice, then joined Mickey in staring at Pete. One hand was open, trying to help himself wiggle through a pair of tight towers, but the other hand was clutched tight. “Gee, I don't see it at all. Did he drop it somewhere?”

Minnie quickly caught on to the conversation. “It must still be in his hand! If he were to let go of the Lucky Hammer, he'd pop back to normal size...the Lucky Hammer doesn't change it's own size, only the people who hold it.”

“Which means if we made him drop it,” Donald concluded, “Then we could get the drop on him!”

“Except his fist is wayyy up there,” Jose pointed up, “And we're wayyy down here. The most we can do is attack his big smelly toes, and even then, that's no guarantee he'll let it go. How can we do anything when we're so small? He may as well not even know we're here.”

Mickey's head jolted up, his eyes flashing. Just like that, everything he'd seen had come together. “And to him...” He said quietly, his voice getting louder with his revelation. “I'm even smaller than before. He might not even feel me walking up his arm...”

“NO!” Daisy shrieked, trying to grab Mickey with her hands, but this time he'd prepared and jumped away in time. “I don't know what you're thinking, but there is no way you're going near him! I won't allow it!”

“Sir Mickey, you mustn't!” Minnie knelt down, hands clasped together, the sheer thought of Mickey dying bringing tears to her eyes. “I couldn't bear to lose you too! I'd rather never see you again than see you dead!”

Mickey looked back and forth between the two most important women in his life, unsure if they cared for him or for what he represented to them. The rest of the men looked equally unsure, and Mickey was starting to consider giving up for the first time in his life. He shut his eyes hard, and when he opened them, he saw a hand reached out, palm flat, the usual gesture one made to him as a signal to climb up for a close talk. That was nothing new.

What was new was who it belonged to – as Donald had never done it before.

Mickey's eyes widened in disbelief, and Donald's expression was difficult to read. No one spoke, unsure of what to make of this moment, as Mickey walked onto his father's open hand. Slowly and gently, Donald lifted Mickey up to his face.

“This plan you've got,” Donald finally said, “Do you really believe it'll work?” It wasn't accusatory or mocking. It was an honest question.

Mickey swallowed, but then stood tall, his back straight, staring right into the eyes of the man he'd always wanted to be like. “I do. I never act unless I'm sure of my actions! And sometimes they're wrong... what I did to the Princess... what I helped Pete to do... that's something I'll never forgive myself for. But I have to make it right! Not to be considered your son, not to win over a girl who thinks I'm just a drawing, not for honor or glory or anything useless! I have to do this because it's the right thing to do!” He then inhaled sharply, lowering his shoulders. “But... it's also time to admit... there are some things I can't do alone.”

Mickey looked around at the friends he'd made along his journey, the new companions he'd befriended at the palace. “I've been acting like having help just makes me weak...when the truth is, my real strength comes from everyone. Maybe if I'd asked for help more often, instead of just assuming everything on my end... this wouldn't have happened. Instead of trying to prove things on my own, we need to work together. I'm not asking you to help me as my father, or as a fellow samurai. I'm asking because I know you all can do great things – I've seen it myself! So, please...give me one more chance.” Then Mickey closed his eyes, and waited. While he had faith and hope that his pleas would be heard, there wasn't a sure guarantee in the bond between these men.

After a brief moment, the hand moved again – this time to Donald's shoulder. “Then let's not waste any time. What do you need us to do?”

Daisy let out an agonized whine, but Minnie stood up, realizing there wasn't anything she could do to persuade Mickey otherwise. Mickey himself was a little startled at the acceptance, but hopped onto Donald's shoulder. “Marsupilami, Maurice, Goofy, you guys stay here and make sure the villagers get out while keeping any Oni away!”

While the trio were still frightened, having an order and thus something to do eased their nerves a smidgen. “You got it, Mickey!” Marsupilami saluted, with Maurice and also Goofy copying.

“Mother, Clarabelle, you two search the capital for anyone hurt and who needs help. If this doesn't pan out, we need this entire place evacuated!”

Daisy sniffled but nodded. “If you don't come back to me in one piece, you're grounded for infinity!”

Clarabelle was hesitant about something else. “What about the Princess? I need to stay by her side!”

“I'm sorry, but I need her for a big part.” Mickey and Minnie met each other's eyes – while she was trying to put on her cold, ruling appearance, the comment about him being a “drawing” had clearly hurt.

Yet she knew it was her own fault, and if there was a time to make up for it, it was now. “I'm ready and willing to do whatever it takes to help.”

“Good... because the best way for this to work is for Pete to stand still so I don't get knocked off. I need you to distract him while Pluto, Donald and I get in as close as we can without being spotted. Jose and Panchito, I want you with her to protect her.”

Clarabelle clutched her chest at the idea, ready to pass out, but while Minnie felt a cold fear run down her spine, she didn't back down. “I'll do all that I can. I won't let him move from that spot.”

“We'll protect you with our very lives, Princess!” Jose came to her left, and Panchito to her right. “We're ready when you are!”

“Then let's not waste any time!” Mickey slammed a fist into his open hand, the heat of battle already beginning to burn hotly in his heart. “Father, I need you to get me to Pete without us spotting him. Let's circle 'round while the Princess goes right on ahead!”

“Then you better hang on tight.” Donald kept one hand on the hilt of his blade, memories flooding back to him of how he injured his arm in the first place. Mickey had always been told it was merely “in battle” but not many details otherwise. He never planned on sharing that story, and had told Daisy the same. But now of all days, now of all times, he wondered if speaking of it could have saved them all some trouble. “Everyone... head out!”

Though Donald's arm was weak, his legs were not, and he bolted off like a flash of lightning, Pluto having to race in order to catch up. The group split up as they were assigned, each one having an equal share of doubt and hope in their hearts for whatever the plan ultimately was. Yet they all also knew giving up was not an option. Now they were all small, compared to Pete – now they all had Mickey's burden.

Minnie picked up her dress – mentally noting that perhaps in the future, she should have much shorter kimonos designed – and ran back the way she came, Panchito and Jose steadily at her side. Pete hadn't moved in some time, as he was still trying to decide the best way to move around without destroying the city. It would be rather silly to be ruler of an entire city of flattened wood and brick! Because of this, Minnie and her guards had no problem approaching him – but getting his attention was another issue. “If he can't hear us, how do we get his attention?” Minnie asked out loud, trying to wave her arms in an effort to be seen.

“We just have to crank up the volume!” Panchito tossed up his sword, twirling it around before pointing it at Jose. Any confusing, awful, weird feelings towards him would have to be set aside. “Jose, smash me!”

Jose stopped in place. “Eh?”

“Come at me! Give it to me! Hard and fast, right now!”

Jose, who had always been the one hitting on people and never the one hit on, felt his mind go utterly blank. This was a new feeling. Not a bad one, exactly – rather he wouldn't mind if Panchito kept going - 

“Hit his sword, Jose,” Minnie interrupted the train wreck of his thoughts.

“Oh. Right. Yes. Of course.” Jose cleared his throat, not noticing Minnie's eyerolling, and then held out his sword, smacking it against Panchito's and creating a loud TWAAAAANG!

Panchito gave it back in full, trying to create as much noise as possible. “Come on, you can give it to me better than that! Don't hold back, give me everything you've got! Harder now!”

Jose was finding it difficult to look Panchito in the eyes. “Yes, sir. Doing my best, sir.” Boy, his armor was really hot today!

“Harder! Faster! Louder!”

“Yes, sir, yes, sir, yes, sir!”

Fortunately for everyone involved – especially Minnie who was starting to wonder if Princesses could officiate marriages because it seemed like it was soon going to be necessary – the loud smashing of the swords was starting to gain some traction. Pete was growing annoyed, wondering where that blasted sound was coming from before he finally looked down and squinted - “IF IT AIN'T THE LITTLE MISS! I KNEW I'D FIND YOU!” Yes, he was ignoring the fact he hadn't. As far as he was concerned, every move was his victory.

Minnie doubted he'd be able to hear her no matter how loudly she shouted, so actions would have to do the talking. In order to save her people, she'd have to throw away her pride and dignity – a small price to pay for their safety. She also saw it as a way to apologize to dear sir Mickey – if only she had been honest with him from the start! While the books had gotten Mickey's foot in the door, it was the real him that had made her smile and feel like more than a Princess. Maybe a cold, unfeeling Princess would keep her pride no matter what – but Minnie wouldn't, because Minnie was more than a title.

She took a breath, and then knelt down on her knees, placing her hands on the dirt. Panchito gasped, a hand to his mouth. “Princess!” A sign of deep submission! “Jose, can you believe this?”

“Not really, no.” To be honest Jose wasn't paying attention, as he was bemoaning the fact that cold showers had yet to be invented.

Pete was just as surprised – he would've thought the royal family would rather die than surrender to him. He had planned on humiliating her himself, but for her to do it on her own? Why not enjoy the show? “THAT'S RIGHT, PRINCESS! FROM NOW ON, YOU'RE DOWN AND I'M UP! MAYBE IF YOU DO WHAT I SAY, I'LL LET YOU LIVE! HA HA HA HA HA! I COULD WATCH YOU DO THIS ALL DAY!”

Which suited Mickey just fine. He clung onto Donald's shoulder, him and Pluto making their way through debris and broken buildings, their bodies covered in the darkness of Pete's shadow. Donald still wasn't wholly sure what Mickey planned to do, but the time to get a full explanation was running short. He had no real choice but to trust that all would work out. “We're almost there!”

“Just a little closer!” Mickey kept his eyes ahead, squatting down, ready to jump. “Once I get on, you need to join the Princess. If this works, he's gunna come down in a big way!”

It was only then, when they were close enough to Pete to smell his stench and have his voice rattling in their ears, that Donald realized the worst part of this plan. “Mickey, once you get up and do what you're doing... how are you going to come back down safely?”

Mickey didn't answer. It wasn't that he didn't have an answer – it was just one he knew Donald wouldn't like. And he was right, with Donald getting a cold stone dropped into his stomach. “Wait a minute, Mickey, you're not saying you-”

“Thank you for everything, _oto-san_!”

It was too late, and Mickey had jumped from Donald's shoulder, landing on Pete's leg, grabbing onto some bits of black fur that stuck out from the enlarged armor. Pete's clothes had, thankfully, grown with him, and the edges of the armor allowed Mickey to climb up, up, up. Donald stood in place, frozen with horror as he understood what it was Mickey planned to do – or rather, not plan.

Mickey wasn't expecting to come back from this alive.

Long ago, when Donald was young and the war with the Oni was dwindling, a few straggling Oni had come into the capital, causing trouble while the Emperor was out visiting his people. Donald was there with his maiden fair, and the Oni themselves were easily defeated. They had hung their heads in defeat, willing to peacefully surrender, and the Emperor was just as peacefully ready to let them go on their way. But two of the Oni, embittered and angry, had lashed out in a last ditch effort to get revenge, no caring who they struck.

As a loyal samurai, it was Donald's duty to defend his Emperor above all else.

“NOW STAND ON YOUR HEAD!” Pete commanded, having decided Minnie was his toy to play with however he pleased. Minnie obeyed without hesitation – physically difficult as it was – to do all that he said, whether it was standing on her head, cartwheels, dancing... so long as it kept Pete's attention and allowed Mickey's plan to work, she'd roll around in the dirt like a pleased pig if need be. “HA HA HA HA! SOME PRINCESS YOU ARE NOW! I WOULDN'T TAKE YOU AS A WIFE EVEN IF YOU BEGGED! BUT I WANNA SEE YOU BEG ANYWAY!”

Mickey climbed onward, even as Pete's sweat made his fur slick, even as the heights made Mickey dizzy, even as the roaring of Pete's voice made his headache even worse. He made his way up Pete's leg, past his hips, on his back, and still kept going. His body ached, his senses gagged, but not once did he stop, not once did he look back down. His headache was worse than it ever had been before, almost blinding him with sheer pain. But if his father could fight with an injured arm, so could Mickey climb on with the feeling of a stabbed skill.

But on that day, long before Mickey was born and entered their lives, Donald hadn't protected the Emperor. He'd thrown himself in front of his bride, taking the blow meant for her and damaging his arm for life. The Emperor had been protected by his other guards, but he'd made his choice all the same. Instead of acting out of honor, he had acted out of love. A real samurai would have seen that as an act of shame, and a part of Donald had carried that with him always, even as the Emperor absolved his actions.

Now as Donald stood there, his eyes feeling hot and wet, he realized that shame and pride meant nothing at all. If he had only shared his stories with Mickey instead of Daisy doing it all – if he had been a better man, a better husband, a better _father_ – Mickey wouldn't sacrifice himself out of some sense of honor that had been forced upon him. What had he done?

At last, Mickey reached his goal – Pete's head. Pete was laughing so hard at Minnie's antics, now making her stand on one foot while trying to dance, that Mickey had to cling on to keep from falling off. Pete's stubble threatened to cut Mickey at every opportunity, and his breath was as noxious as any poisonous gas. Mickey continued to climb and only stopped when he reached Pete's ear and climbed right inside. Balance was the key, and in Mickey's short life, he knew that once you took away balance, it was difficult to keep anything else. Also, this was going to hurt _a lot_ , no matter what size you were.

It was difficult to see, with not much sunlight and the inner workings of any living creature not equipped to shine. But there was just enough light for Mickey to see one large shape in Pete's ear, and while Mickey knew little about anatomy, he guessed this was the important part of any person's hearing – the eardrum. He pulled out his mother's sewing needle, approached the cone-shaped body part, held his breath - and stabbed just once.

It's said the scream from Pete was so loud, it shattered the smaller planets into stars, it divided the heavens and frightened the gods, it split apart the oceans and made the entire world go deaf for one straight minute. He raised one foot to kick whatever was nearest – but now his balance was so off, he fell backwards - 

Pluto grabbed Donald's clothes by the teeth, urging him to run and remind him of what Mickey had sworn him to do. Donald gasped for air, and bolted, running right for the surprised Princess and her stunned guards. “MOVE!” He threw the young woman over his shoulder, and all of them ran as fast as their feet would go – for the force of Pete's fall was so great that it sent a storm of dust and debris for miles and miles in all directions. The earth shook so hard that Panchito lost his footing, stumbling right onto Jose, but when he landed, he kept his back to the air, ready to shield the Jose with his life.

It seemed to take an eternity for the dust to settle, for the world to be silent, and when Donald dared to look over his shoulder, he could no longer see the gigantic form of Pete taking up all that space. If he couldn't see Pete in all the destruction of the broken buildings, then that must have meant he let go of the Lucky Hammer, and the plan had worked – but at what cost?

Panchito lifted his head, wining in pain, a hint of blood running down his face as he looked down at Jose. “Are you all right?”

Jose – who had always been the one saving and never the one saved – for some reason thought he saw a swirl of cherry blossoms moving in slow motion around his savior, and he was fairly certain it wasn't because he had a concussion. “About that _senpai_ thing...”

“Where's Mickey?” Minnie asked quietly, fingers trembling as she didn't truly want an answer.

Donald swallowed, putting Minnie down, his heart beating hard at his own idea of the truth. “Mickey... Mickey!” His sword lost, forgotten, and mattering little now, he sprinted to the crater Pete had left. Pete could be heard moaning in pain and dizziness, likely not to get up anytime soon. Doors, windows, walls, ceilings, were scattered and shattered everywhere in an endless sea of ruin. Donald began to tear through it all, even with his bad arm, looking for any small sign of the small boy. “Mickey! Mickey, answer me!”

Minnie quietly began to weep, and Panchito took her into his arms to console her, even as his own tears started to flow. Jose took off his helmet, showing respect to the samurai who made the ultimate sacrifice. Pluto whined, but then began to sniff around the area.

It wasn't long before Clarabelle came upon them, who turned her head away in grief. Soon after that came Daisy, who held her husband from behind, her crying the quietest it had ever been. Marsupilami, Maurice and Goofy came running with urgent news, but upon seeing this scene of devastation and anguish, were shocked into silence. Marsupilami swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “We...we've got to go! There's a whole bunch of Oni coming this way, they must have heard Pete's commands!”

“I can't go!” Donald snapped without looking up, his fingers torn and bleeding as he kept digging. “Not without him!”

“Listen, he wouldn't want you to be captured or killed by these guys!” Marsupilami tried to grab Donald by his shoulder, but he was violently thrust off - 

“I AM NOT LEAVING _MY SON_ BEHIND!” Donald screamed, slamming both of his hands to the ground, even as pain stabbed his old wounds because it couldn't compare to the pain in his soul. “I will not, I cannot, I... I...” He choked on his words, and the world became blurry, the tears coming so fast he couldn't see any longer. Marsupilami staggered backwards, unsure what to do know, and the world around them came into silence...

…But then there came the sound of laughter, of all things. Quiet, muffled, but it was definitely there. Confused faces were abound, and Donald's grief poured into rage. “Who thinks this is funny?!” he stood up so quickly that Daisy rolled off haphazardly, Donald cracking his knuckles and whipping his head around to see the offender. It wasn't coming from anyone in the group, but a few feet into the air of toppled building, with Pluto sticking his head in. As Donald approached, he could make out a few words between the hysteric laughter.

“Q-quit it, boy! That tickles!”

And there, underneath the dirt and debris and defying all logic, was Mickey, his face being licked by a very happy pup. Except Mickey wasn't the size of a peach pit anymore, which was why Donald briefly thought the sight was an agony-induced dream. Mickey, whose old clothes were now tattered and frayed, his body covered in dirt and dust, was about the same size as an average young adult. Pluto quickly caught the scent of something else, and resumed sniffing elsewhere, allowing Mickey and Donald to see each other.

Mickey blinked a few times, and then cracked a tired smile. “Hello, _oto-san_... I mean, Don-”

Donald fell to his knees and held Mickey for the first time in his life. He wasn't sure he could ever let go again. “I am so sorry, Mickey,” he said softly, not caring how or why he was able to do this. “For all that I said, for all that I did... I was wrong. You deserved so much better than me as a parent...but I am your parent. I am your father. I promise you this – you are a member of this family, and you always will be!”

Mickey had never held anyone before in his life. He wasn't entirely sure how to go about it, how much strength to use or how long it was supposed to be. Slowly, he lifted his arms, in quiet awe that he could put his arms around anyone now, and he felt his father's warmth. Hints of tears began to dribble down his cheeks, and for the moment, he buried his face into his father's shoulder.

The tender moment alone didn't last for too long, as obviously everyone wanted to know what was going on – and when they came upon the scene, all burst into joy. Panchito and Jose danced merrily, Clarabelle momentarily fainted into Goofy's arms, Marsupilami and Maurice couldn't stop laughing, and Minnie and Daisy joined in on the hug with tears and relief. The oncoming Oni threat was forgotten for the moment, which was unfortunate, as there were a great number heading for the gate.

“Oh, Mickey, you clever dear!” Daisy squealed, rubbing Mickey's shoulders. “Managing to the grab the Lucky Hammer as you fell, that was amazing!”

“Uh...yeah, that _would_ have been amazing.” Mickey awkwardly replied, now realizing a thing or two. “Except I didn't do that.”

All at once, the joy was paused. A little “woof” cemented things, as Pluto now sat among them with the dug-up Lucky Hammer in his mouth, which had landed away from Mickey.

Minnie looked back and forth between Mickey and the Lucky Hammer, perfectly puzzled. “Then... how did you turn this size?”

“Beats me.” Mickey shrugged helplessly. “All I know is that I was fallin' down, with a really bad headache, and then... I dunno, just before I landed, I felt really strange.” He scratched his head, some clods of dirt beginning to fall off. But as he scratched his head, he felt something funny – three little bumps. He supposed, given how far he fell, that having a bump on the head was normal, but why three? And why did they feel kind of pointy?

“I hate to break up the party,” Panchito suddenly declared, seeing figures over the horizon, “But it looks like part two of the battle is upon us!”

Dozens and dozens and dozens of Oni had arrived, all shapes and sizes, one horns and two horns, none of them wanting to be there but all of them wanting to avoid Pete's wrath. Would they even listen if they were told Pete was defeated? There was no time to risk it – Panchito, Jose, Goofy, Marsupilami and Maurice readied themselves for battle, swords drawn and willing to fight. Mickey shoved his father off, wanting to join in, even if his original sewing needle blade was now lost in the mess. “We won't let them get any further!” He heroically declared, as he ruffled his hair to remove the last bits of dirt from his head, and he stood with his friends, ready for anything – so he thought.

The band of Oni headed right for the guards, but the strange day only got stranger – the ones upfront took one good look at Mickey and stopped in their tracks – which led them to get tripped and trampled by the ones in front, until _they_ saw Mickey, and the process repeated itself until most of them were laying on the ground, confused and embarrassed. Mickey would have laughed if he wasn't very baffled. “Huh... I guess they won't let themselves get any further either.” He looked at his friends to confirm this – but now they were all staring at Mickey with wide eyes and open jaws. Maurice was frantically pointing to the top of Mickey's head. “What?” Mickey felt his head, trying to understand what was causing such a fuss, but he didn't feel any open wounds. Just those three pointy bumps, almost like horns - 

Oh.  
Wait.  
 _What?!_

“I don't believe my eyes,” One of the Oni said as he began to get up – the one Mickey recognized as Hutch. “I thought the previous Oni King's family was all taken out!”

“Guess he must've missed one,” one Mickey recognized as Pacuvio answered. “He's got the three horns, and only royal family blood gets those! I did hear that the Queen was running away to her peach orchard before she got killed with the rest of 'em...”

“TIME OUT!” Donald squawked, storming up between Mickey and the Oni, his head spinning. “What are you guys saying?! That Mickey's an Oni?!”

“Not just any Oni!” More Oni that Mickey knew piped up, like Bigtime. “This kid's the real deal! He's the real King, not Pete! We don't have to follow Pete anymore!” He looked so happy he could start crying, as did the rest of the exhausted and weary Oni.

“Hang on, my baby can't be an Oni.” Daisy interrupted. “All his life, he's only ever been as small as a peach pit!”

“So?” Bouncer shrugged off the question. “All Oni start out that small. It's when we get older and our horns grow in that we reach our full size. Everybody knows that!”

“EVERYBODY DOES _NOT_ KNOW THAT!” Donald yelled, with Mickey still feeling his horns in disbelief. “HOW WOULD WE EVER KNOW THAT?!”

“Did you ever ask?” Burger quipped.

Daisy grabbed her husband and pulled him away before he tried to smack someone. Mickey crossed his arms, remembering a few odd things – in past encounters with Oni, hadn't they always called him a kid, a child, someone very young? What an odd revelation – but what to do now? He only wanted his size to change – he never wanted power over an entire race of people! “Shoot, this is a lot to handle in one day.” He glanced at Minnie, who still had her mouth open in surprise. “Hm...let's see...if I'm the Oni King now...that means you have to do what I say, right?”

“That's the deal,” said Hutch. “Even if we don't like it.”

“Then my first act as Oni King is...that you no longer have to obey me.” He expected and received plenty of stares, along with “huh”s and “really?”s thrown in. “What do I know about being King? You guys are citizens of Japan, just like the rest of us. If I'm an Oni, than that must mean Oni ain't different from everyone else after all, cause I can tell you right now I don't feel any different. Just live with us, that's all.”

What a new concept! Living _with_ people! Pacuvio chuckled quietly, finally losing a sense to nap. “He really is just like the old Oni King.” The rest of the Oni talked among themselves, some in disbelief, others in happiness – they didn't know their future anymore, but it had be better than being under Pete's thumb.

Mickey was feeling rather good. He'd gotten his father's love, a normal size, and settled an old war in a matter of minutes! “Can this day get any better?” He expected to wake up from this amazing dream any second.

Then a sudden _snap_ caught his attention. Minnie was now standing up, having pulled out one of her classic fans from her sleeve. She was wearing her cold, stony expression of royal business, and Mickey felt a chill down his spine. “This is all well and good, but... Sir Mickey, you _did_ break your promise to me, you _did_ attempt to steal the Lucky Hammer, and as a result, you _did_ help destroy a major part of the capitol. As Princess, I cannot let this stand without proper punishment.”

Donald and Daisy gasped, getting in front of Mickey to protect their child. “But he saved everyone too, doesn't that count for something?” Donald asked, not wanting to lose his son after he finally acknowledged he had one.

Mickey's heart ached, but he couldn't deny what had been said. “No... she's right. As a samurai, I dishonored my master. What I did was wrong.” He walked around his parents, and then knelt before Minnie, his head bowed. “Whatever punishment she gives me, I'll take it without question.”

Donald and Daisy held each other, afraid of what was to come, and it seemed all were holding their breath. Even the Oni began to worry if this would mean punishment would come their way as well. Minnie opened the fan again, hiding her mouth, studying Mickey intensely. “As eager as you are to throw away your birthright...we cannot ignore your blood-right. Not everyone, nor will every Oni, so readily accept your order to simply live freely. They may even see you working for me as a sign of aggression. In order to pay back for your crimes, and to keep peace with the Oni, you must stay here at the capitol so I can keep an eye on you... as my husband.”

Mickey lifted his head up, unsure he heard right. “Huh?”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Now it was Daisy's turn to be dragged away by Donald. “HE'S MY BABY, I'VE STILL GOT THREE TO FIVE YEARS OF MOMMYING LEFT!”

“You're welcome to stay, of course, to make sure your son is carrying out his punishment.” Minnie replied, and although her mouth was hidden, Mickey was certain she was grinning underneath the fan.

“Can it be a double wedding?” Jose asked, giving Panchito whiplash.

Mickey blinked up at Minnie, still on one knee. “Well, uh... if that's my... punishment, and you're the princess, guess I gotta live with it!” He'd try to make it through, somehow, even as his own grin was giving him away.

“Well, what do we do now?” Hutch asked the general population, feeling more confused than ever.

“I say, if we're going to be living among people...” Pacuvio began to pick up broken bits of walls and doors. “We help them live again.” It seemed as good a plan as any, and the Oni began to clean up – which would eventually confuse the townsfolk when they realized it was safe to return again.

All in all, it was an odd sight to behold – Daisy and Minnie starting to have a tug of war over Mickey, Donald laughing his fool head off, and Jose insisting on Panchito bridal carrying him. Marsupilami looked at Maurice. “Y'know...this may be one of those happily ever after type deals. But I have to say, it's the oddest one I've ever seen.” Maurice nodded in agreement. “I thought about ditching this whole place once we repaid our debt to Mickey, but with things this weird... it kind of makes you want to see it through, don't it?” Maurice smiled, and ruffled the top of Marsupilami's head. Eventually they'd chip in and help – but for now, watching everything unfold was far too entertaining.

At some point, they'd unearth and lock up Pete – at some point, there would be more official talks between the Princess and the Oni – at some point, there would be a wedding, perhaps two. But there didn't seem to be any big rush. Time would flow as it always had, and there were uncertainties all around. But as the day ended, and more days would come, there was one thing that would be agreed upon, and shared with as the tales became legends passed from new fathers to new sons.

Mickey's heart would always be the biggest thing about him – and while not through blood, he inherited it from his father.


End file.
